


The Fire Within

by Maisey2k10



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Humour, Post-War, Romance, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:54:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 26
Words: 79,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21848524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maisey2k10/pseuds/Maisey2k10
Summary: Hermione Granger, an accomplished witch is working a particularly trying case and is in need of help. Deputy Sheriff Jordan Parrish is a hellhound and just the one she needs. When a fiery witch and a fire-proof supernatural being work together, sparks are sure to fly and Hermione and the Deputy find that they need each other for more than one reason. Rated for language, violence and sexual content! HGxJP pairing! Slight Ron bashing.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/ Jordan Parrish
Comments: 12
Kudos: 74





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own canon events and characters, they belong to J.K Rowling and the creators of Teen Wolf and MTV. This is purely for entertainment purposes and I am not making a profit from the posting of this. This is set after the Wild Hunt but disregards everything afterwards, so there was no war between the supernatural and humans, there is no Monroe or Gerard and there are no hunters. At least for now! Also, Parrish is 23 and Hermione is 24. Oh, and I’m fudging the timeline a bit, too. This will be written mostly in Parrish’s POV. Rated M for language, violence and sexual content.
> 
> Slight Ron bashing.
> 
> Page Count: 7

“Granger! Granger!”

Hermione Granger sighed, dropping her quill onto her cluttered desk and bringing her hands up to her temples, trying to apply pressure to relieve the ache that was slowly spreading through her head. It didn’t help with the male voice that was shouting and it was steadily getting louder and angrier.

“Granger! Where are you!”

She grumbled a series of words beneath her breath that would make Charlie Weasley blush and she dropped her head into her arms, leaning over in her chair and onto her desk.

“GRANGER!”

_ ‘Every bloody day!’ _ She thought in annoyance.

It was every day this happened. It was always the same wizard and it was the same abuse she was forced to endure, and honestly, she wasn’t sure she could deal with it today without snapping and hexing the idiot.

She knew she was being a bit harsh, after all, the wizard in question had a wizarding illness that was similar to Dementia, except he had access to magic, making things more dangerous for anyone that upset him.

“There you are! Granger, what in the name of Merlin do you think you’re doing in my office? You’re trespassing, get out! Get out now!”

Hermione took a deep, calming breath. In through the nose and out through the mouth. In through the nose and out through the mouth.

_ ‘You can’t hex him,’ _ she reminded herself. It was her mantra whenever he was nearby, or when it was anyone else that annoyed her, actually. 

It was every damn day and it was all taking its toll on her. This had been occurring every day for the last three years, ever since she had taken over as Head for the RCMC Department at the young age of twenty-one, the youngest department head in history.

The old wizard currently hurling abuse at her in her own bloody office was Philip Camden, her predecessor. Before she had taken over, he’d been the department head for almost twenty years and if you asked Hermione, she didn’t know how he’d managed to get the job, he hadn’t been particularly good at it before the dementia set in and once it did, he’d only gotten worse.

He’d been removed from his post and forced into retirement three years ago, and Hermione had been the first choice for his replacement and since then, the department was booming, paperwork was always on time, employees were actually happy to come to work, fieldwork was dealt with quickly, carefully and professionally and their annual reports and department analysis were better than had been seen in a long time.

Ever since that day, he returned to the Ministry and haunted the RCMC Department and verbally attacked Hermione and he’d even tried to duel her a few times, until security was called and he was escorted out of the building. Hermione had no idea how Camden was able to get into the building day in day out, but he was a crafty old wizard which she could respect if he only stopped shouting at her.

He needed to be placed into a magical nursing home but the wizard’s daughter was a simpering idiot who couldn’t even spell her own name properly and she refused to do so, and such, not only was Camden able to harass her department, he was not only vulnerable but dangerous too.

“GRANGER! Get the hell out of my office and get yourself...”

Her headache was in full swing. She’d been staring at the same reports since the night before, having pulled an all-nighter in her office. It was now mid-morning, she’d not yet been home, she’d not yet had breakfast but her lovely PA, Kara, had brought her a strong coffee the moment she stepped into work. She’d been working the same case for the last three months and she kept hitting a brick wall, and the stress she felt only increased when Camden showed up.

“Phillip, I’ve got a rather painful headache and I’ve not got access to a Pain Relief Potion, please will you lower your voice?” She said, her tone polite and non-threatening as she lifted her head from her arms.

“How dare you! I’ll have your job for this!” He bellowed in outrage, struggling to pull his wand from his robes.

She made a groaning sound and flopped back into her chair, tilting her head back and running her hands over her face.

_ ‘Give me strength,’ _ she thought.  _ ‘And coffee, lots of it.’ _

“You no longer work here, Philip, you retired several years ago and I was promoted and made Department Head,” she said calmly.

“You job-stealing trollop!”

“Your words, as usual, are always so kind,” she quipped, hearing a snigger from the doorway.

She turned her head slightly, seeing an amused looking Auror Norton stood leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest and his wand held lightly in his hand. His dirty blonde hair fell over his forehead and into his green eyes. His Auror robes being the mandatory grey colour but left open rather than fastened. His tanned skin shined slightly as the sunlight streamed into her office and his mouth was pulled into an amused smile.

His partner, Auror Ferry, was more contained with his emotions, but he always was. Hermione often referred to him as a ‘grumpy sod’ and there was no better way to describe him that was more accurate than that. He was older than Norton, being in his late thirties. His black hair was cut short and his brown eyes were emotionless, his facial expression bored. His pale hand held his wand down by his side and like usual his Auror robes were perfectly pressed and fastened. Hermione always marvelled at their difference in character, but she supposed it was why they worked so well together.

“Alright, Philip, I think we should give the lovely Granger a break for the day, don’t you?” Norton said amused.

“That strumpet is trespassing!” Philip bellowed, finally managing to pull his wand and he sent a hex towards Hermione, who deflected it with a lazy flick of her wand.

“Philip, if you don’t leave, this grumpy sod,” he motioned towards Ferry with his thumb. “Will have to arrest you and that’s more paperwork for me, so help a wizard out, yeah?”

Philip turned on Norton and sent a hex his way and he deflected it as easily as Hermione had.

“Thanks for nothing,” he sighed before he and Ferry both sent Stunners to the old wizard. As Ferry escorted Philip from her office, Norton turned his eyes to her, once more reclining against the door frame and he sent her an amused smile.

“He’s earlier than usual,” he commented.

“He has a habit of turning up at the most stressful times of my day,” she replied, sighing and once more rubbing at her temples. “It’s getting harder and harder not to hex him.”

“Well, Granger, if it makes you feel any better, you’re one of the prettiest trollops I’ve ever seen,” he said, sending her a flirtatious smile.

She felt a smile curve up at her lips and she leaned back into her chair, resting her elbows on the armrests and clasping her hands together.

“You’re playing with fire,” she warned him, but there was only amusement in her tone.

“I could be the one to tame you,” he said suggestively.

She cocked an eyebrow. “You know my rule, Norton. I don’t date colleagues.”

“Technically I’m not your colleague, we work in different departments,” he shrugged, pushing away from the door and moving over to her desk, stopping in front of it and digging his hand into his pocket, pulling at a familiar-looking potion and placing it on the desk. A Pain Relief Potion.

“You’re a lifesaver,” she commented, picking up the potion and drinking a third of the vial, wishing to keep some for later as she knew she was going to need it.

“I could be a lot more if you let me.”

She placed the vial in a drawer of her desk and then sat forward, resting her arms on the desk and leaning towards him slightly.

“You and I both know that’s not going to happen. I can handle your flirty comments and smiles, but you can’t handle my fire.”

He frowned slightly, knowing she was probably right but he wasn’t giving up. They’d had this conversation several times over the last few years. The first time he’d laid eyes on her was when he’d been called to her office to escort Camden out of the building and on her first day of being department head, too. And since that day three years ago, they’d both developed this flirty-friendship, and it was only a friendship because she wouldn’t allow it to become anything more.

He shook his head slightly and a smile pulled at his mouth when he saw her pulling a vanilla sponge cupcake with lemon icing from a drawer of her desk. Sat in the icing was a single white candle which she lit with her wand, and she held it out to him.

“Happy 26th birthday, Norton,” she spoke.

“You remembered,” he smiled and tilted his head to the side, his eyes happily tracing the beautiful features of her face.

“When have I ever forgotten your birthday?” She said with a raised eyebrow.

He chuckled and shook his head. She always remembered his birthday and she always bought him a cupcake with his favourite icing or filing and she’d wait for him to arrive to escort Camden from her office to give it to him.

“Go on then, make a wish before the candle melts.”

She held the cupcake out to him and with his eyes locked on hers, he leaned forward and blew out the flame.

“Do I even want to know what you wished for?” She questioned.

A grin crept up onto his mouth. “I wouldn’t want to make you blush,” he teased.

She snorted at him. “Norton, don’t forget I’m a trollop, there isn’t much that can do that.”

He chuckled at her and stood up, taking the cupcake from her.

“Until tomorrow, Granger,” he winked at her and left her office, returning to his own department, likely to fill out the paperwork for Camden’s arrest, and just as he left her office, Kara walked in.

Kara was in her mid-thirties and Hermione liked her. She’d only been her PA for just over a year but the redheaded, blue-eyed witch was one of the only few people that could handle Hermione Granger’s fiery temper. She didn’t fear her, she didn’t simper over her. She did what was asked of her and most of the time, what wasn’t. She’d gotten to know Hermione and she knew her so well she often brought Hermione what she thought she needed, even when Hermione hadn’t asked her for it. Since her promotion, Hermione had hired seven PA’s, five of them had quit, one of them she’d fired and Kara was the final PA she’d hired, and she’d lasted remarkably longer than the others. In fact, she’d had no experience as a PA, but she’d been looking for a job as both her children had returned to Hogwarts and her husband had been severely injured in the war, leaving him paralysed from the waist down and in a wheelchair. She’d been through a lot and she was strong, and that was how Hermione knew she’d found the right witch for the job and so far she hadn’t let her down.

“I’ve brought you coffee,” Kara chirped.

“You’re an angel,” Hermione groaned, happily taking the large cup from her and taking a sip, sighing as the hot liquid slid down her throat.

“I must be, since I also got you a chicken salad sandwich and a blueberry muffin,” Kara laughed, placing the brown paper bag on her desk. “I know you stayed last night and you haven’t eaten yet.”

“I’m giving you a raise,” Hermione said, pulling out the blueberry muffin and not caring for her manners, she took a large bite.

Kara chuckled at her and took the seat in front of Hermione’s desk.

“Did I just see Norton leaving?” Hermione nodded, taking another bite of her muffin. “Camden?” She nodded again. “What’d he say this time?”

“The usual,” Hermione replied after swallowing the food in her mouth. “Though this time he not only called me a job-stealing trollop but a strumpet, too.”

Kara snorted. “His insults are improving,” she said and Hermione made a noise of agreement as she took another bite of her muffin. “And Norton? Why don’t you put the poor wizard out of his misery?” She asked amused.

Hermione shrugged. “He flirts, I flirt back, but I’m always clear that nothing’s going to come of it. I’m not leading him on or giving him any false signals.”

“I know, but maybe you should just give into him, let him take you out and once he sees that he can’t handle you and you’ll burn him, he’ll get over this crush he has on you.”

“No,” Hermione shook his head. “I don’t want to hurt him, I don’t want to get his hopes up only for them to come crashing down around him in flames, ash and smoke. That’s not fair to him.”

Kara sighed. “It’s not your fault that you have yet to meet someone who is able to handle you and your fire. But, I have faith that you will.” Hermione rolled her eyes. “I’m serious, you know my family has Seer blood. I’m not wrong about these things. I’m certain you’ll meet the one that can tame you and I have a feeling it’ll be soon.”

A knock on the door startled them both and they turned to see The Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, stood in the doorway.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he said with a smile.

“Of course not, I assume you’re here to discuss progress made on the Prodigium case,” Hermione replied.

He nodded and entered the room, just as Kara stood from her chair to exit the room, greeting The Minister by handing him a brown paper bag with a chocolate chip muffin inside, as well as a lemon cake.

He looked at Hermione amused as he took the seat across from her.

“I know, I’m giving her a raise,” she said and he laughed at her, putting the paper bag on the ground beside him and giving Hermione his full attention.

She looked tired and he knew she’d pulled another all-nighter, the third of the week and it was only Thursday, over the last three months she spent more time in her office than she did at her home, he’d found her several times slumped over her desk, asleep with parchment stuck to her face and her fingers covered in dried ink. And he understood why; this particular case was one of the worst they’d seen in years, and he didn’t envy the poor witch for having to be the one tasked with solving it.

“So, I’ve discovered nothing that we didn’t already know. Whatever this creature is and according to witness accounts, it’s large, strong, fast, has fangs, claws and glowing blue eyes. Normally I’d say this was a werewolf, but the size dimensions are too big, even for the biggest of werewolves, and the eye colour is inconsistent, too. So I’m thinking that whatever this is, it may actually be part werewolf, which would account for the similar traits. However, this creature seems to be killing on a daily basis and we know werewolves can only transform during the full moon.”

He nodded, his eyes lowering to her desk and seeing the surface covered with research papers, parchments covered with Hermione’s notes and thoughts, newspaper articles –wizarding and muggle- and crime scene photographs. When he lifted his gaze, he saw that the entirety of the left wall of her office contained much of the same.

“I’m not entirely sure what this is but it’s being referred to as ‘Prodigium’, which we know to mean ‘Monster,’ and as you can see, it’s called that for a reason. We don’t know where it came from, we don’t know what it is, we don’t know how to find it and we don’t know how to stop it. Too many people have died already and we’ve explored every option available and we’re still hitting brick walls,” she sighed, running a hand through her thick mass of unruly curls and getting her fingers stuck.

“And if this case isn’t solved, many more will die and continue to do so,” Kingsley spoke. “There must be something we have yet to try.”

Hermione bit her lip and nodded. “There is actually.” He gave her a look of encouragement. “Do you know what a hellhound is?”

Kingsley blinked in surprise. “Yes, but I don’t understand why you’ve brought this up. Hellhounds are extinct.”

A knowing smile curved at Hermione's lips and his curiosity was pulled by it.

“What if I was to tell you they’re not quite extinct and that I know where we may find one? And that I think it might be able to help us?”

“Talk,” he demanded, and so Hermione did.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Page Count: 6

Hermione was sat in her parked rental car outside of the Beacon Hill’s Sheriff’s Department, her eyes darting between the file in her hand and the station itself.

She knew the one she was looking for but only by name, Deputy Sheriff Jordan Parrish. She’d already gone through the files of the other employees of the sheriff’s department, including the sheriff himself, and now she was re-reading through Parrish’s file in order to keep the information fresh in her mind.

There were no photos included in the files for reasons she didn’t know, but there was nothing she could do about it. She’d gone to the American Ministry of Magic in Washington and had them pull files from The Muggle Government in order for her to be well prepared. Not knowing what he looked like, she knew she was going to have to go into the station and ask after him, and after gathering her wits and her eyes scanning her surroundings for any potential threats, she climbed out of the car, making sure to put all of the files out of sight, but she kept hold of two, Parrish’s and Sheriff Noah Stilinski’s.

She approached the station and pulled the door open, stepping inside and her eyes searched her new surroundings cautiously, taking note of the layout and the exits available for use. The room would’ve been a lot bigger if it weren’t for the many desks that occupied the space, the filing cabinets and the office equipment, and she noticed that it wasn’t much different to the set up in her own department.

She turned her head to the left, seeing an office with the blinds and door closed and she assumed it belonged to the sheriff. Further down the room she saw a corridor and could make out several bars which she suspected was the holding cells.

She shook her head and walked towards the desk closest to her, seeing the name plaque reading ‘DeWitt.’ The man in question seemed to be busy filling out a report and he hadn’t heard or seen her approach him.

“Excuse me?” Hermione spoke, drawing his attention.

DeWitt looked up from his desk and his eyes widened slightly before he dropped the pen onto his desk and sat up straight, his eyes trailing her from head to toe. Hermione admitted that he was handsome with his dark blonde hair cut short but the fringe hanging over his forehead and it falling just above his dark blue eyes. He had a straight nose and a chiselled jaw and his uniform did nothing to hide his muscular physique, but although he was handsome, Hermione got the feeling he knew he was and that made him arrogant. She was usually a good judge of character and her instincts had yet to fail her.

His eyes returned to her face and a charming smile pulled at his mouth. “Good morning,” he greeted.

“Good morning,” she replied politely. He blinked slowly, obviously not expecting her British accent and his smile seemed to widen. “I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of Deputy Jordan Parrish.”

His brow creased slightly and his lips pursed as his eyes darted to his right and then back to her.

“I’m sorry to say he’s not currently at the station, he’s responding to a call. Maybe I could help you instead.”

She gave him a polite smile. “I’m afraid that’s not possible, I specifically require Deputy Parrish. I’ll just wait until he returns,” she spoke, before turning around and heading over to the row of chairs that sat against the wall of the sheriff’s office. She chose the chair closest to the exit and as she sat down, she crossed her legs and rested the files on her lap with her clasped hands on top, keeping them in place.

She’d been sat there for only five minutes -more than aware of the curious stares that she was receiving- when the door to the sheriff’s office opened and a middle-aged man stepped out.

She knew him to be in his late forties and the greying black hair and wrinkles of his face supported it. His dark brown eyes were squinted slightly in the sunlight that streamed in through the windows and his gaze turned to her curiously as he walked past her and over to his deputies. He seemed to have a hushed conversation with DeWitt before he approached her.

“Ma’am, it is my understanding you wish to see Deputy Parrish,” he spoke.

“That is correct, Sheriff,” she replied, and just like DeWitt had been, he was surprised by her accent.

“May I ask why?”

“You may, however, my situation is _delicate_ and requires a great amount of caution and it needs to be done discreetly.”

He eyed her carefully before nodding towards his office and Hermione took the hint and followed in after him. He shut the door behind her and moved over to his desk, gesturing to the chair opposite his and Hermione took a seat, her eyes sweeping the room and seeing that it wasn’t much different to her own, though hers was much bigger.

“I’m going to keep this brief, Sheriff Stilinski,”

“You know who I am?” He questioned with a raised eyebrow.

She nodded before taking his file and putting it on the desk, pushing it over to him. He took it warily and opened it up, his eyes scanning the information in front of him and his eyes flew up to her.

“Are you FBI?”

“No.”

“CIA?”

“No, I don’t work for your government, only my own.” He was confused by her answer. “Sheriff, I am aware of the supernatural beings that reside in Beacon Hills.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he lied, leaning back in his chair, placing the file back onto the desk and crossing his arms over his chest.

She felt a smile pull at her mouth. “It is not often I see someone such as yourself willing to protect a supernatural being, and honestly, I’m impressed by your track record. I know that Scott McCall is a True Alpha werewolf, I know of Malia Tate-Hale being a werecoyote, I know of Liam Dunbar being the Beta of the pack, and of Lydia Martin being a banshee. And I know of your son, being the best friend of Scott McCall and having once been possessed by a Nogitsune. I know that both you and Melissa McCall continue to protect them as best you can and you’ve done a wonderful job.”

“Obviously not good enough,” he commented, eyeing her warily.

“No, you have. You see, Sheriff, I am not like you, but neither am I like the others.” He frowned in confusion. “I’m bound by the laws of my people to protect our secret so if I were to reveal myself to you, I’d face life imprisonment and I rather like my freedom. But trust me when I say, that I’m different, too.”

“You’re supernatural?” He questioned, relaxing in his seat, uncrossing his arms and leaning forward with his arms resting on the desk.

“No, I’m not supernatural, but I do have abilities that make me different and that is all I can say. Sheriff, I am the Department Head of something which we call the RCMC, and unfortunately, I am unable to reveal the meaning of the acronym, but in short, those that are under my command work very hard in order to protect those that are like me and that are like your son’s friends.” He frowned. “We protect werewolves and banshees and other beings and we ensure that their identities and statuses are kept secret from humans such as yourself. We do what we can to protect them from hunters who wish them harm, and I’m not going to lie to you, it hasn’t always been this way. My people have recently survived a war in which we were split in our differences of opinions and luckily for you, the right side won. When I was promoted to Head of Department, I had all of our laws changed regarding beings such as Mr. McCall and now they are finally safe and protected. I am telling you this as I wish for you to trust that I only have the best intentions for being here this morning. I have travelled a long way and it has been a long journey.”

“Why are you here? Why do you wish to see Parrish?”

Hermione placed the second file on the desk before opening it and removing several crime scene photos which she showed him. His eyes widened when he recognised them as having occurred during the time The Beast had been terrorising Beacon Hills.

“This occurred here,” she spoke, before handing him several more photographs and although they were clearly taken at a different time and location, he noticed the similarities. “This occurred in Glasgow, Scotland three months ago.” She then handed him another photograph. “This occurred in Surrey of London, England two months ago.” She handed him another photograph. “And this occurred in Paris, France, one month ago.”

He placed the photographs on the desk and dropped his head into his hands, giving a loud sigh.

“It’s being referred to as ‘Prodigum’, which means Monster. I’ve been working this case for three months and I’ve hit every brick wall there could possibly be. I was losing hope that we’d never solve the case and deal with the one responsible until I happened upon some newspaper articles. I dug a little deeper and sure enough, it seemed the same occurrences happened here. I am unable to explain how this led me to Deputy Parrish, but I am aware that he is a hellhound and I am aware of his role in helping to defeat The Beast. I need his help, he’s the only one that I know will be able to help me solve this case. It’s not quite The Beast, but I believe it’s similar enough that once we are able to find it, we can stop it from killing any more people. So far, the death count is two-hundred and six and it’s rising by the day. My government has had thirty employees fatally wounded trying to track and defeat this creature and we’re desperate. If I’m correct about my assumptions of Deputy Parrish’s character judging by what I’ve seen in his file, I’m hoping he will help me.”

The sheriff lifted his head from his hands and Hermione noticed he looked tired, and she didn’t blame him. After doing her research on Beacon Hills and the happenings over the last couple of years, he had every reason to be.

“My superiors are saying this is one of the worst cases that’s been seen by our people in years and we went through war.”

He rubbed his hands over his face and nodded before standing and leaving the office. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to leave or stay so she went with the latter. She collected the photographs and files and sat back, waiting for him to return.

She didn’t have to wait long and when he did return; it was with two mugs of coffee, a few sachets of sugar and a couple of milk. He placed both on the table and gestured for her to take what she wished, so she selected one sugar and one milk and poured them into the coffee. Lifting the mug to her lips and taking a sip, she grimaced at the taste and he chuckled at her.

“Should’ve warned you, the coffee here is terrible,” he said.

She only nodded in agreement before taking the rest of the sugar and the milk and dumping it into her coffee in hopes it would improve the taste, which was unsuccessful.

“I’ve called Parrish back to the station, he’ll be here soon.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” she frowned slightly.

He shrugged. “He was responding to a series of noise complaints, I believe your situation takes precedence.”

They fell into silence and Hermione turned her attention to looking out the window whilst his stare remained on her.

“You seem rather young to be a Department Head,” he commented.

She turned to look at him. “Once the war had been won, my people spent time rebuilding their lives and healing the damage done to their families and homes and businesses. I was all but forced to be a soldier and once we’d won I went straight into the government and due to my efforts in the war as well as my hard work and accomplishments, I made my way up through the ranks. At the age of twenty-one, the department head retired and I was promoted.”

She could tell he had more questions, _many_ more questions but they were both distracted when they head a car pulling up to the station. When he stood, she took her files in hand and followed him out of his office and outside into the sunshine.

She stood back as the sheriff approached the car and she was more than surprised when Deputy Parrish stepped out of the car and she saw him for the first time. Her own conjured thoughts of his appearance had been way off. She hadn’t expected him to be so good looking, so handsome.

There was a short distance between them and he’d yet to notice her as he conversed with the sheriff, but she could see him perfectly. His hair was cut short and a dark brown colour, but when the sun caught the strands there seemed to be a red tint. His skin was tanned and when she squinted her eyes, she could see that his own appeared to be a light brown colour. His uniform moulded to his frame showing off his impressive and muscular build and she could tell he was tall, she’d say just over six-feet.

When the sheriff turned his head and gestured for her to approach, she did so, seeing the way Parrish finally noticed her presence and whilst his eyes seemed to show surprise, she also saw intrigue.

“You must be Deputy Parrish,” Hermione said, holding her hand out to shake his.

“You’re British,” he commented in surprise.

She gave him a polite but friendly smile. “I am yes, I’m Hermione Granger.”

When his hand touched hers, she immediately noticed that his body temperature was running a lot higher than any human’s should, and she also noticed the way a zing of heat spread through her, a fire coursing through her entire body until it seemed to settle into the very core of her magic, making her feel peaceful and calm.

 _‘Odd,’_ she thought.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Page Count: 5

When Deputy Sheriff Jordan Parrish had been called away from his task of investigating the noise complaints at an abandoned house, he’d been curious as to why. It had been Sheriff Stilinski himself that had made the call and he hadn’t been given any information as to why he was needed to return to the station, only that it was imperative he returned as quickly as possible.

During his drive back, the possible reasons for why he was needed at the station ran through his mind, the one that stood out the most was that something was once again happening in Beacon Hills. It’d been two months since The Wild Hunt and everything had been remarkably quiet. Lydia hadn’t found any bodies or had any strange visions, there hadn’t been any more chimaeras that had turned up and needed taking care of and they’d had no trouble with the group of teens that always seemed to be in the centre of it all. There’d been no supernatural influence with any of their cases and everything was normal. It was a logical thought that something had happened, that they’d had the calm and now the storm had come.

When he reached the station and parked the car, Sheriff Stilinski was already approaching him before he’d even opened the door.

“Something supernatural going on?” Parrish said, forgoing a greeting and needing to have the answers so he could prepare himself.

“Yes and no,” the sheriff replied, confusing him.

“What’d you mean?” Parrish questioned with a confused frown.

“There’s something going on but not in Beacon Hills, someone showed up here asking after you. I took the time to talk to them and from what I’ve learned it’s not good and they wish for your help.”

“My help?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, I’ll let them explain, you’ll probably get the whole story where I didn’t.”

The sheriff turned his head slightly and when Parrish heard footsteps, he turned his head also, a feeling of surprise and intrigue filling him as he watched the beautiful woman closing the distance between them. And that’s what she was, a beautiful woman and there was no denying it.

She had a head of thick mahogany curls that fell down to her mid-back and although they were wild and unruly, they still looked soft and silky in the sunlight. She had ivory skin and a heart-shaped face which held large chocolate brown eyes which almost seemed doe-like. Her eyes were framed by thick eyelashes, her nose was small and button-like and her lips looked plump and soft. His eyes fell from her face and travelled down her body, seeing that she wore a white blouse with the first couple of buttons undone and it was tucked into the waist of her dark blue skinny jeans and she wore a black causal blazer over the top.

On her feet, she wore black strappy heels that tied around the ankle and her toenails were painted black to match the colouring on her fingernails. He wasn’t exactly sure on her height given the heels she wore but he’d say without them she’d be around average height, possibly five-foot-six.

“You must be Deputy Parrish,” the woman spoke and to his surprise, she had an accent that filled his ears like a ringing bell, and she held a hand out to him.

“You’re British,” he commented, hearing the surprise in his voice as his eyes once more trailed her figure. Up close he could see that despite her height, she seemed smaller in stature.

She gave him a polite but friendly smile, showing her perfectly white teeth.

“I am, yes, I’m Hermione Granger.”

That was a strange name, he thought, but it was pretty. It suited her.

He finally took her hand, feeling her gentle yet firm grip and when his skin touched hers, he was surprised to feel that although it was nowhere near the temperature his body seemed to run at, her own skin was hotter than a regular human’s, too. He felt a bolt of white-hot fire surging through his entire body until it settled in his stomach, and unexplainably, he felt himself relaxing, the tension leaving his body in a way it hadn’t done since before he’d come to Beacon Hills.

He released her hand and she dropped it back down to her side and that’s when he noticed she carried two files in the other hand and his eyes moved back to her face, getting caught in her gaze.

“Well, I’ll leave you two alone,” Sheriff Stilinski spoke, effectively breaking them free of their staring match.

A kind smile played at Hermione’s mouth as she turned her eyes to the sheriff. “Thank you, Sheriff Stilinski, and it was a pleasure meeting you, even if you tried to poison me with the terrible coffee.”

The Sheriff gave her a chuckle and a rare smile before leaving them alone and then Hermione turned back to him, a thoughtful look crossing her face.

“Let’s talk somewhere more private,” she suggested before she turned and made her way towards a black SUV which he suspected belonged to her, and he was right when she removed a set of keys from her pocket and then climbed into the car.

Before he climbed into the passenger’s side, he noticed that several files were on the floor of the car and when he got a closer look, he saw that the names on the files were those of the deputies in the station. She gathered the files and slipped them onto the back seat and once he closed the door behind him she turned her body in her seat to better face him.

“So, I bet you’re wondering just who I am and why I’m here.”

“You could say that, Ma’am,” he replied, shifting his own body to face her and he leaned back against the door.

“First of all please call me Hermione, I’m not old enough to be a Ma’am and Miss. Granger makes me feel as though I’m back in school and I’ve done something I probably shouldn’t have,” she said, and he felt a spark of amusement at her words. “So, I need you to understand that there are some things that I’m unable to explain at this moment in time, and if you should agree to what I wish to ask of you, only then will I answer any and every question you have truthfully.” He frowned slightly and nodded. “So, I am very much aware of the supernatural beings that reside in Beacon Hills.” He felt his eyes widen and he tried to deny it, but she spoke over him. “Deputy, do you honestly believe Sheriff Stilinski would allow me to speak to you about the supernatural if he wasn’t already aware of my knowing?”

Now that she mentioned it, he supposed that was true.

“I know everything and that includes your status as a hellhound.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I’m not here to hurt anyone, in fact, I work for my government in the RCMC Department and I am the Department Head.”

He was taken aback by that, seeing as he would’ve said she was still young, maybe closer to his own age of twenty-three. For her to hold such a position at a young age was impressive.

“My department is aware of all the supernatural beings around the world and it is our responsibility to protect them and keep their identities and secrets safe from those that aren’t supernatural.”

“Are you supernatural?” He questioned, his eyes once more looking her over but this time it was different. She felt different. He felt different in her presence.

“Not quite, but I do have abilities of my own. I’m not the only one to have these abilities, there’s thousands of us hidden around the world and living our lives in peace, and I will go into more detail later. I don’t wish for there to be any secrets between us.”

“Then why can’t you tell me what you are? I can feel that you’re different.”

She blinked slowly and a crease in her forehead appeared. “You can? That’s odd,” she commented, before shaking her head.

“There are laws in place that protect my people and should I tell you of my secrets I will face life imprisonment. The Statute of Secrecy was put into place centuries ago and it is our most sacred law that must be followed.”

His intrigue with her built and he titled his head to the side curiously, bringing his arms up to cross them over his chest.

“Okay,” he nodded. “Then what is it you need from me?”

“Your help, to be completely honest with you, we’re desperate.”

His eyes fell downcast when her hands shifted the files in her lap and much to his surprise, he saw that one of the files had his name on. She removed several photographs from the file and handed them to him.

His mind filled with memories of his time tracking and fighting with The Beast, right up until they had killed it. He’d recognise those crime scene photos anywhere. She then handed him some more photos and although the crime scene was similar, he knew the time and locations to be different.

“That is Paris, Scotland and London over the last three months.”

His eyes flew to hers, seeing the worry swimming through her brown orbs and that she nibbled at her lip anxiously.

“It’s called Prodigium, which is Latin for Monster, and you can see why. This case landed on my desk three months ago and ever since I’ve been trying to solve it, but we keep hitting brick walls. We can’t track it, we can’t find it, we don’t know what it is and we don’t know how to stop it. We’re not entirely sure what it looks like as it’s never been photographed or caught on film, all we have to go on are the witness accounts and we’ve created a profile based on the overlapping factors. From what we can gather, this creature is very large, very strong and very fast. It has fangs and claws and bright blue eyes.”

He closed his eyes and took a calming, deep breath.

“We’re certain it’s part werewolf, but we’re not sure on the rest. The eye colour is inconsistent as is the size, and whatever this is, it seems to be killing for no other reason than to end lives. It’s not eating its victims or hunting them for sport, it’s just killing.”

He felt her eyes watching him carefully when his eyes screwed shut tightly and when he opened them again, she had a look of worry settled on her face.

“I happened across newspaper articles on The Beast and then I contacted The American branch of my government and they pulled every file they had on record for Beacon Hills, which is where I learned of your existence, and it’s a miracle.”

“Miracle? Why?”

“You don’t have any idea of how special you truly are, do you?” She spoke, her voice soft and calming. “Before I discovered you, hellhounds were thought to be extinct. As far as we’re aware, you’re the last of your kind.”

He felt something inside of him sadden at her words, and he realised it to be the other part of him, the hellhound itself, realising that it was alone and the last of its kind.

He cleared his throat and shifted slightly.

“Sorry,” she apologised. “Anyway, what we’re dealing with isn’t The Beast but it is similar and I was hoping that between the two of us, we’d be able to catch this creature and stop it from hurting anyone else.”

“Death total?”

A sad look crossed her face. “Two-hundred and six,” she answered and he felt his stomach drop, his heartbeat skip and his mouth go dry at the news. Even The Beast hadn’t killed that many people. “But that was the estimate _before_ I left London, it could’ve very well risen and it likely has. Thirty government employees have been fatally wounded trying to take down this creature and they barely injured it. We need someone that is powerful enough to help us, that can track it. We need you, Deputy.”

“Okay, I’ll help.”

“You will?” She spoke, her large eyes widening further in her surprise.

“If people are dying I want to help stop it.”

“Oh thank God!” She breathed out, a large smile taking root on her face and he felt his own mouth pull into a smile.

“You do understand that I need you to come with me back to Britain, yes? And that you could be away as little as a week or even as long as a few months?”

“I figured, but if you need me then I’ll help.”

“You have no idea how grateful my people will be. We need to leave as soon as possible; I was hoping you’d agree to help and so I’ve got our flights booked for this evening.”

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. “I’ll have to pack a few things.”

“That’s fine, but just the essentials, anything you don’t have with you we’ll make sure to provide for you once we arrive in Britain. I’ll drop you off at your apartment and allow you time to pack, whilst I make a quick errand to The American branch and return their files.”

He didn’t bother looking confused about how she knew where he lived; the file in her hand would have that information, but he would likely have to give her directions.

“I’ll be right back,” he informed her, before getting out of the car and heading into the station.

Once he was gone from her sight, Hermione sank back into her seat feeling relief and hope flood through her and it was something she hadn’t felt since the war had been won.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Page Count: 7

“Do you mind if we make a pit stop?” The handsome deputy asked her as she pulled away from his apartment.

After dropping him off earlier, she’d apparated to the nearest wizarding town and then floo’d to The American Ministry. She’d stayed for a little while before returning to Parrish’s apartment and he’d been waiting for her, stepping outside with a duffle bag in his hand before she’d even rolled to a stop.

She followed his directions until she pulled up at Beacon Hills High School and judging by the time and the number of students mulling around, she realised they were on their lunch break.

“I’ll be right back,” he told her as he climbed out of the car and shut the door behind him.

Being curious, she climbed out of the car and allowed her eyes to examine her surroundings, and that’s when she noticed that Parrish was approaching a group of students, which she suspected were the supernatural beings.

“So, what’s the emergency?” Lydia Martin asked the deputy as he neared closer to the Pack, various looks of worry and curiosity crossing their faces.

“It’s not an emergency, not for here at least” he replied, stopping in front of the group of teens and they all looked surprised when they noticed that he wasn’t wearing his uniform, despite the fact he should’ve been on shift at the station. “I wanted to tell you all in person, you’re graduating in a month and I don’t know if I’ll get the chance to wish you all the best for your futures.”

“Why? What’s going on?” Scott McCall asked.

“I’m leaving Beacon Hills.”

“What!”

He winced against the chorused shout.

“I’m leaving Beacon Hills,” he repeated.

“Why?” Malia spoke, but the tone of voice sounded as if it were more of a demand that he tell her rather than her asking.

“I can’t exactly tell you, I’ve been sworn to secrecy. All I can say is that someone came to find me, to ask for my help and the right thing to do is to help them, a lot of people have already died and are continuing to die.”

“They need you?” Lydia said with a raised eyebrow.

“They need the hellhound.”

Lydia’s eyes searched his face before they landed on a spot over his shoulder, and when he turned his head, he saw that Hermione was stood by the car, watching him curiously.

“Is that her? She’s pretty,” the redhead said innocently and Parrish felt his eyebrow raise in response. “How do you know this isn’t a trap? That she wants to hurt you.”

“I just know. She’s different, I can feel it.”

“Different, like us?” Scott said.

“No, she’s not supernatural but she’s told me she has abilities that make her different, she hasn’t yet explained everything in detail but I expect she will once we’re on the plane.”

“Does my dad know about this?” Stiles asked him, his eyes darting between him and at Hermione over his shoulder.

“Yes, he does. He’s the one that called me back to the station. He knows where I’m going and why, but he’s been sworn to secrecy, too, so there’s no point in asking him for answers, he won’t give you any.”

“We’ll see,” Stiles smirked, slinging his arm over Lydia’s shoulders and she rolled her eyes at him.

“Where are you going, how long will you be gone?” Lydia asked.

“I’m leaving the continent, I can’t tell you where I’m going and I can’t tell you how long I’ll be gone because I don’t know. It could be as little as a week or as long as a few months, either way, I’m not coming back until the situation is dealt with, which is why I thought it best to say goodbye to you all now.” Their eyes flickered back and forth between him and Hermione. “And now I have to go, we’ve got a flight to catch. So, if I don’t see you before you graduate and go off to college, I wish you the best.” And before they could say anything else, he turned and walked away, heading back to the car.

When Parrish climbed into the car, he noticed that Hermione stayed put and was watching the group of teens as they did the same.

“I’ll make sure he’s kept safe,” Hermione spoke softly, but quietly, knowing the werewolf and werecoyote would hear her, and although she wasn’t able to see their facial expressions or hear them, she knew her accent would’ve taken them by surprise as well as the fact she’d spoken as if she knew they’d be able to hear her.

She then climbed into the car and turned towards Parrish who was watching her with curious eyes.

“All done?”

“All done,” he nodded.

“Then let’s go, it’s a long drive to the airport,” she responded, before turning on the ignition and setting off on their journey.

It was, in fact, a long drive to the airport and they’d mostly done the journey in silence with the radio being the only sound in the car. Twenty minutes in Parrish had fallen asleep and she made sure to remain quiet as to not wake him.

They were only thirty minutes out from the airport when she received word that their flight had been delayed due to a storm, and not only had it been delayed, but it had been done so by several hours. They were scheduled to leave at six-thirty, and now, the flight had been pushed back to two-thirty the following morning.

Hermione grumbled at the news. She knew she should’ve just taken a port key, but Kingsley was adamant she travel the muggle way in order to not put too much at once on the deputy. Learning of the existence of magic and its different counterparts was surely going to unsettle him, and making him travel by port key would only be the icing on the cake. They’d have been back in Britain hours ago if she’d put her foot down.

She shook her head and followed the directions on the signposts to the nearest motel, stopping by a convenience store in order to purchase a few food items and beverages. Throughout all of this, Parrish hadn’t woken once, and he didn’t until Hermione returned to the car after paying for two rooms, and she called his name as she removed their bags from the boot.

Once he woke and noticed his strange surroundings, he climbed out of the car and took his bag from her, following after her as she led the way.

“What are we doing at a motel?” He asked confused.

“Our flight’s been delayed due to a storm, we’re not scheduled to leave until two-thirty tomorrow morning, and I’d rather wait at a motel where I can actually get some sleep, than in the airport.”

“You have to check-in,” he replied.

“And I will as soon as I’ve found my room and had something to eat.”

She found it fairly quickly and she handed him the key to his own room, which was next to hers, but before he could enter, she motioned for him to follow after her into her own room.

His eyes searched the room as she shut the door behind him, seeing the brown and cream colour scheme, a small table and two chairs, a small closet and a double bed in the centre of the room with a bedside table to the right. The door to the bathroom was open and a short walk from the bed.

She placed her bag on the floor by the closet and he did the same, before sitting on the bed when she gestured to it. She pulled a chair over to the bed and perched herself on it, sitting in front of him with her legs crossed and her hands clasped together, resting on her knee.

“So, first of all, I find it curious that you have not yet asked what it is you’ll get for helping me,” she spoke, tilting her head to the side and her wild curls spilt over her shoulder.

“And why would I? As long as I can help to protect people from this creature then that’s all I want,” he replied and he felt himself squirming at the way her face seemed to soften and a smile pulled at her mouth.

“It seems I was right about you,” she mused. “I’m an excellent judge of character and my instincts have yet to lead me astray.” She shook her head lightly. “Anyway, seeing as we’ve brought you into this and you’re likely to be risking your life, we’re going to be treating you as a freelance worker, so you’ll be receiving a lump sum of money that will be deposited into your bank account, and actually, it should’ve already been done.”

“How do you know my banking information?” He asked slowly.

She smirked at him, leaning forward in her chair and bringing her closer to him. “This is what you’ve got to understand, Deputy, my government have very few restrictions surrounding them and I have a very high-security clearance. When I arrived at The American branch, no one batted an eyelash when I requested the files of every supernatural being known to exist in Beacon Hills, and when I requested the files of Sheriff Stilinski and all the deputies, they had them pulled from your government database within minutes. My being able to get my hands on your banking information is the least I can do. I assume you have mobile or internet banking, why don’t you take a look?”

His eyes traced her face slowly and then moved down to the mobile device which he pulled out of his pocket, and sure enough, money had been deposited into his account.

“Five hundred thousand dollars!” He spluttered in surprise, his eyes lifting to her face and her amused smile.

“For now. As I said, this is a very dangerous situation we’re walking in to; we feel it fair that we take care of you financially. Hopefully, if Prodigium is no longer a threat, you’ll receive a further five hundred thousand.”

“But I can’t accept it,” he frowned slightly and her amused smile transformed into a soft, kind smile and he felt himself getting trapped in her gaze, her eyes shining with understanding and pride.

“It’s your money, Deputy; you may do with it as you wish. If you feel you would rather donate it to charity, then we are unable to stop you.” She shook her head lightly. “Right, seeing as we have some time on our hands, do you feel you are ready to know the truth of my abilities and the existence of my people?”

“Yes,” he answered immediately.

A smirk curved on her lips. “We’ll see.” She leaned back against her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “So, you obviously know of the existence of the supernatural, so I wish to know what your thoughts are on magic.”

“Magic? As in pulling rabbits out of hats and card tricks?”

She chuckled at him. “No, those are parlour tricks to entertain children. I mean actual magic. Magic that allows for the impossible to become possible, magic that can make even the grumpiest of sods laugh and smile. Magic that is beautiful and pure, but also dark and consuming.”

“I’m not following,” he frowned.

She sat forward and he caught sight of something peeking out from beneath her sleeve and before his eyes, that was a sharp ‘crack’ and she had disappeared from his view. He barely had time to blink before a second ‘crack’ was heard and she was stood in the doorway of the bathroom, and then it happened again and she was stood by the door, leaning against it.

“How did you do that?” He asked, his voice quieter than usual.

“We call it the art of apparition, but for you, it’s basically teleportation.” He blinked several times as she removed what looked to be a wooden stick from her sleeve. “ _Avis_ ,” she whispered.

Much to his shock, a flock of bright yellow canaries shot from the tip and flew about the room, twittering and chirping happily, before they disappeared with a swish of the wooden stick. 

“That is what we call Conjuring and it is a branch of Transfiguration,” she explained.

She then pointed the stick at the chair she had previously been occupying and with a whispered, “ _Wingardium Leviosa_ ,” the chair levitated off the ground and bobbed gently in the air before she lowered it back to the ground.

“That was a Levitation Charm,” she said, as she moved back over to the chair and sat herself down. “This is my wand and it acts as a conductor for my magic. It helps me to control it and it ensures that I don’t have any magical outbursts which are tied into my emotions. My wand focuses my magic and maintains the intended intentions and directions of my spell work. I was born with my magic inside of me and it has always been a part of me, and just as I grow, so does my magic.”

“What exactly are you trying to tell me?”

“To put it simply, I’m a witch. We exist and live secretly and peacefully in the world, as do our male counterparts which are better known as wizards.”

He couldn’t help himself, a snort broke free. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe her, after what he’d seen her do and after what he’d witnessed regarding the supernatural, he did believe her. It was just the idea that magic actually did exist and that he was in the presence of a real-life witch that had him unable to contain a snort.

She raised an eyebrow at him and rather than looking insulted, angry or annoyed, she actually looked amused by his behaviour.

“It’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s just that, well...”

“I understand,” she nodded. “I haven’t always known I was a witch. Strange things used to happen to me when I was a child. When I was upset glass vases would shatter, a book that I wanted to read but couldn’t reach on the shelf would levitate over to me, a dress my mother would wish for me to wear but I hated would burst into flames, when I fell out of a tree I landed on my feet without a single injury, when I was being bullied and chased in primary school I would always find myself in a room on the opposite side of the school. None of this was normal but I’d learn to understand that I was different to the other children in school, and when I turned eleven, there was a knock on my door. A witch, the Deputy Headmistress of a school of magic, explained to me what I was and why strange things happened. I was taken out of this world and into the world to which I truly belonged and I was taught about the wonders of magic. I was taught the history of my people, I was taught how to perform incredible feats of magic and I was brought to a school that would be my home for seven years before I graduated and I entered the world of adulthood.”

He blinked slowly and brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “This is a lot to take in.”

“I know, and there’s so much more to tell you.”

~000~000~000~

Hermione had spent the last hour explaining the existence of the Wizarding World and magic to Deputy Parrish and Hermione thought he was taking it rather well. She’d told him of the reasons behind The Statute of Secrecy and The Witch Trails, she told him of the Wizarding World, she’d told him of the blood statuses within magical folk, she’d told him of her childhood and of her time at school and her friends, but she hadn’t told him of the war or all the trouble she’d gotten into, she told him of what her department truly did, of all the people they’d helped and continued to help and that brought them to now.

They’d finished eating the food she’d bought and she was about to bring up the war which brought back painful memories.

“What I haven’t yet told you is that there was a war several years ago.”

He sat up taller and he felt his body stiffen slightly, he saw the way her whole body tensed in her chair, the way a haunted look crossed her face and she gripped her wand in her hand tightly, and something inside of him told him that she had been a soldier.

“The short explanation is that there was this dark and powerful wizard, he wished for the Wizarding World to only be populated by those that were Pureblood, and many Pureblooded families agreed with him. You have to understand, this wizard was the magical version of Adolf Hitler.”

He felt his stomach twist and turn and bile rise up in his throat and it took everything he had in him to force it back down. He took a calming breath and unclenched his fists, not even realising he’d done it. He shook his head and turned back to Hermione. She was looking over his shoulder, staring at a small mark that was on the wall, likely trying to keep the memories at bay. He knew the feeling all too well.

“They believed that Muggleborns such as myself stole their magic and that was why their magic was weakening with each generation that was born, _if_ a new generation was born, obviously it had nothing to do with the inbreeding,” she said sarcastically with a roll of her eyes. “When our government fell, He took control of our world and made it so all wizarding folk had to be able to prove their magical lineage. Many fled Britain, some even Europe as he was slowly recruiting from other countries. My friends and I were forced to run, we had to survive for almost a year in the wild whilst being hunted and chased. Muggleborns were being slaughtered and Half-bloods and Pureblood blood traitors forced into slavery, and we fought back. It took two wars, countless battles and deaths and two decades to finally destroy the monster that he was, but now the Wizarding World is healed and blood supremacy has all but been eradicated. There’s still a few that support the old ways but nothing will come of it.”

She shook her head and took several calming breaths before she stood from her chair and made her way over to her bag. When she found what she was looking for she made her way over to him and handed him a very large, very heavy tome.

“The war is still very painful to talk about,” she said quietly. “As you can likely tell, I left quite a lot of information out, if you read this book you’ll learn everything you wish to know.”

He nodded, looking over the large tome and the elegant calligraphy which read, ‘ _Hogwarts, a History_.’

“Now, I’ll just pop over to the airport and get us checked in, I’ll need your passport.”

“You’ll need me to come with you,” he said, but he did put the book aside in order to retrieve his passport from his duffle bag.

“Not necessarily,” she shrugged, pulling her wand from her sleeve and giving it a gentle shake, indicating she had magic at her disposal. She took his passport from him and spun on her heel, disappearing from view.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Page Count: 6

It was not long after ten o’clock when Parrish realised he’d been reading the book Hermione had given him for several hours without even putting it down. He’d looked through the contents page first, seeing the different sections that caught his curiosity, but he decided it best to read through the chapters on the war first.

He’d been so focused on his task, that he hadn’t realised he’d gotten a stiff neck from staring down at the pages for hours on end. It was only when he’d finished the last paragraph explaining the wars that had taken place, that he moved his neck and felt a crippling pain shoot through him and he winced.

After checking the time on his phone, he decided to take a quick shower, hoping the hot water would help to ease the ache in his neck. Once he’d showered and dried, he dressed in only a t-shirt and his underwear and climbed into bed, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep, not with the knowledge of everything he had learned being fresh in his mind.

He couldn’t believe that the young woman in the room next to him had not only fought in a war but that she had been pulled into it when she was a young child of twelve. He couldn’t believe some of the things she’d been forced to do and forced to endure over the years; the several near-death experiences, the being hunted as if she was an abomination, the darkness and hatred she’d been forced to fight against, the massacre and attempted genocide she’d been forced to witness. And after learning that at the age of eighteen, she’d been instrumental in the ending of the war and the dark wizard that was the leader of the opposing side, he couldn’t help but be impressed by her. He couldn’t help be impressed by her fighting spirit, by her willingness to fight for herself and others, he found himself being drawn into her fire.

It had taken him a little while to see it, but now he did. There was fire in her, and not in the sense that she was passionate or spirited –which he got the feeling she most certainly was- but there was actual fire in her, much like there was in him. His reason being his hellhound side, so he wondered what it was that caused such a thing in her and why it was he felt drawn to her.

Shaking his head of his thoughts, he knew he really ought to get a few hours sleep before they caught their flight to Britain, especially knowing that the twelve hour flight and the jet lag was going to be hard to deal with, but he didn’t feel tired, so instead, he retrieved _Hogwarts, a History_ and turned his attention to learning more about the hidden Wizarding World and the magical school Hermione had attended.

He’d fallen asleep whilst reading, strange dreams of fire and heat and laughter and ashes flittering through his mind until he found himself bolting awake when a blood-curdling scream carried through the walls and into his room.

Without thought, he jumped out of bed and ran to his duffle bag, once he retrieved his gun he exited his own room and took the few steps towards Hermione’s. The screams hadn’t stopped and he tried the door, realising that she hadn’t locked it and it opened for him.

With his heart beating quickly and adrenaline being pumped through his body, he slowly stepped into the room, his eyes searching his surroundings for any sign of an intruder, but there was none. The bathroom light was on and the door left open, that being the only light source in the dark room. His eyes moved to the bed, seeing Hermione tossing and turning in the centre and screams continued to leave her.

He lowered his gun and made his way over to the bed and just as his fingers touched her shoulder, Hermione had bolted up with a silent scream and he’d flinched back in surprise at the way her wand was suddenly in her hand and aimed directly at his face.

Her eyes were mesmerising to him, he’d expected to see chocolate brown, only they weren’t. They were wide with fear and desperation, and they shone a bright amber colour, glowing in the darkness of the room.

He remained quiet and still, understanding exactly what she was feeling and allowing her time to gain her bearings and realise that she wasn’t in any danger and that the war was long since over.

She took several deep breaths and shut her eyes tightly, and once they opened, the amber had gone and returned to chocolate brown and a horrified look crossed her face when noticing that she had him at wand point. The wand fell from her fingers and landed on the bed before rolling onto the ground and she brought both her hands up to her mouth.

“Merlin, I am so sorry,” she apologised profusely.

“It’s alright,” he said calmly, placing his gun on the bedside table and sitting down on the chair that was still close to the bed. “I understand, you know from my file that I was a soldier of war too,” he spoke, giving her a gentle but sad smile which seemed to calm her.

She nodded slowly and wiped away the last of her fallen tears, before pushing herself backwards so she was propped up against the pillows.

“Are you alright?” He asked softly. “I know how vivid some dreams can be, especially when reliving past events.”

“I’m fine, thank you, I’m sorry for waking you.”

He shrugged in response and watched the way her eyes darted about the room, her hands patting down the bedding and a look of panic crossing her face when she couldn’t find what she was looking for. Allowing his instincts to take over, he found himself standing from the chair and crossing the room over to where her wand had rolled to a stop on the ground. He returned to his chair and placed her wand in her hand, feeling pleased that his assumptions had been correct when he saw the way a relieved look crossed her face and her body relaxed.

She flicked the wooden stick and a small vial flew out of her bag and across the room to land in her outstretched hand. She unstopped the vial and downed the entire contents before it was sent back to her bag.

“Calming Draught,” she explained, and although he was intrigued by the subject of potions and spell work –which had been mentioned in the book- he knew it would be better to ask her about it later.

“Why was your door unlocked? Anyone could’ve gotten in,” he spoke and Hermione’s lip twitched at the light chiding he gave her.

“I felt no need to lock it; I’ve got several magical barriers around the room that will prevent anyone that wishes to harm me from entering.”

He was going to ask her to elaborate further until something else caught his attention. In the little light that was in the room, his eyes were drawn to her left forearm which was uncovered by the t-shirt she wore, and to his complete horror, he realised that she’d been carved into. There was no mistaking it being done with anything but a knife and the way it had healed made it appear to be red and angry, as if it was still healing.

“What’s a Mudblood?”

He wasn’t blind to the way she flinched and he felt the other part of him, the hellhound, rise up inside of him, almost protectively.

“You read the book?” She spoke and he nodded slowly in reply. “Then you know of what happened during my childhood. What isn’t mentioned is that whilst my friends and I were on the run, we were captured and taken to His base of operations. Whilst my friends were taken to the dungeons, I was kept upstairs where I was magically tortured for information regarding the resistance group I belonged to.”

He felt himself bristle and his hands came up to grip the armrests on the chair. He could feel the hellhound clawing at him, trying to break free.

“Do you know what The Unforgivables are?” She asked him quietly, her eyes focused on her hand that was picking at the stitching of the bedding.

“They were briefly mentioned in the book,” he frowned, trying to recall the information he’d learned. “They’re illegal; the use of any one of them is an automatic prison sentence. There’s three of them, one kills instantly, one controls your mind and the other is used for torture and it can and has driven some to insanity.”

She nodded slowly. “Yes, well I was hit with the Torture Curse repeatedly, I’m not sure how long I was there, to be honest, I blacked out several times. When the bat-shit crazy witch realised that despite the unbearable pain I was in I wouldn’t give up our secrets, she turned to other measures. Using a cursed blade, she carved this into me. Mudblood is a derogatory term for someone like me, for someone who is born with magic but to none magical parents. It means that I don’t deserve the magic I have within me. That I am fifth that is nothing better than something on the bottom of their shoes.”

He startled himself when the wood of the armrests splintered into pieces and fell to the ground. He hadn’t realised he’d had such a tight grip or that he could cause such damage when his hellhound side was firmly locked away. He blinked slowly and his eyes looked to Hermione, seeing that although he had startled her, too, with the loud noise it had made, she wasn't surprised or annoyed by what he’d done.

Much to his surprise, with a gentle swish of her wand the chair repaired itself under Hermione’s hand, as if it hadn’t been broken at all, and she didn’t even mention what he’d done.

“Luckily I was rescued before my sanity was ripped from me,” she finished quietly.

“And why is this not mentioned in the book?” He asked her, clasping his hands together so he couldn’t accidentally break any more furniture.

“Would you want people to know what happened to you? Would you want them to look at you in pity, to see you as fragile and broken, or would you prefer for them to see you as strong and powerful, to see you for your achievements and accomplishments rather than your failures and the horrors you’d faced in your past? My friends and I made a pact, there are very few that know of what happened to me during the war and we would like to keep it that way.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” he promised.

“I know. Despite only knowing you for a short time, I can’t help but trust you, but it’s more than that. My magic trusts you.”

He was going to reply when her wand started buzzing and it drew her attention. 

“Right, that’s our cue that our flight is due to leave in just over an hour, so we better get ourselves on the road.”

~000~000~000~

After arriving at the airport ten minutes before they were due to board the plane, Parrish now found himself sitting on a comfortable, spacious seat beside Hermione and in first class, too. He’d been impressed when she’d gotten them into the airport and through airport security measures with a few flicks of her wand, especially when his handgun hadn’t been detected despite the fact he had all the correct paperwork that allowed him to travel with one.

She’d ushered him onto the plane and he’d taken the window seat, seeing the way she eyed it nervously and he’d received a thankful smile from her. They’d barely sat down when a flight attendant approached them, offering complimentary food and drink and they’d both opted for a bottle of water and declined food, after having stopped at a drive-thru Burger King on the way to the airport.

When the attendant was gone, Hermione had cast some spells around them, explaining that unless someone was looking for them for a specific reason, they wouldn’t be bothered by anyone.

When the plane took off, Hermione gripped the armrests of her seat in her hands tightly and her breathing quickened to the point where she was gasping. Unable to stop himself at seeing her in such distress, his own hand moved to cover hers, his fingers lightly curling around her own and feeling the way that the temperature of her hand seemed to heat up until it matched his own.

At his touch she seemed to calm a little, her breathing slowing and her heartbeat calming, but her grip did not loosen. Once they were safe to remove their seat belts, he took his hand from hers and when she took her hand away from the armrest, his eyes widened to see the grey-white leather armrests covered in black soot.

Her eyes fell down to it and without giving him an explanation, she waved her wand and the soot was gone.

“I hate flying,” she muttered.

He could understand why, after learning that witches not only flew on brooms but that she had flown on the back of a creature known as a thestral and a dragon –which he still couldn’t believe were real- it wasn’t much of a stretch that she would dislike it.

She dug into the pocket of her blazer -this one white with black lining- and she removed _Hogwarts, a History_ and held it out to him and he stared in amazement, as she removed another book, equally as large as the other and placed it on her knee.

“Magic,” she shrugged.

He heard the laugh of disbelief leave him before he shook his head and took the book, opening it up to the where he had left off, learning about The Founders of Hogwarts School.

They’d only been in the air an hour when Hermione had fallen asleep. He’d steal glances at her every once in a while, feeling a sense of calmness and peace at the way her face was relaxed, some of her hair covering her face and it being disturbed with every breath she took.

There was something different about her and he wasn’t quite sure what it was, but he did know it had nothing to do with her being a witch. It was something else.

He’d been watching her closely since leaving the motel and he honestly didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed that she had been a soldier before, especially when meeting her at the station for the first time. He’d seen the way her eyes scanned her surroundings carefully, checking for any threats and taking note of entry and exit points. He’d seen the way she was cautious when in public places, like at the airport or the school. He’d seen the way her hand went to her sleeve -where he now knew she kept her wand- when she was startled by a noise or if someone bumped into her. She was a soldier, a survivor of war much like he was. She had fire in her, much like he did and he realised that she was very much like him.

Hermione made a noise in her sleep and she shifted slightly, her head turning towards him until it rested lightly against his shoulder. He felt a small smile pulling at his mouth and his hellhound seemed content with her presence.

He got the feeling his hellhound was quite fond of her and he wasn’t the only one, Jordan Parrish the human, found himself drawn to her, too.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Page Count: 8

It had been a very long flight and after several naps, three meals, three trips to the bathroom and countless hours of Parrish asking Hermione questions and her answering them as honestly as she could, they’d finally touched down at Heathrow airport.

They’d both been a little sluggish after exiting the plane and as soon as they were able to, they both leaned against a wall in order to better stretch out their aching muscles. Hermione groaned when her back seemed to ‘crack’ and her neck did the same.

“That’s better,” she commented, rolling her shoulders and neck and then standing straight.

“What now?” He asked, following her towards their luggage, his eyes scanning the moving conveyer belt for his duffle bag and quickly snatching it up, as well as hers seeing as she couldn’t reach with it being so far back.

“Thanks,” she said, taking the bag from him. “Well, given that it’s Sunday and we both need some actual sleep, we’ll head straight to my apartment to do so and we’ll go into the office early tomorrow morning, where you’ll get the full story on Prodigium and you can see the evidence and reports for yourself, you may be able to pick up on something we’ve missed.”

“Your apartment?” He questioned with a raised eyebrow and following her towards the exit point.

She looked at him over her shoulder, an amused look in her eyes and a smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth.

“Yes, Deputy, my apartment. Are you scared to be alone with me?” She teased and he felt goosebumps cover his arms at the way her eyes flashed amber for all but a second.

“No,” he replied honestly. “Just wanted to make sure I’d heard you correctly.”

“The Wizarding World is a dangerous place for someone such as yourself and we need to ensure your safety, and not only that, but accommodations are bloody expensive. You can actually buy property cheaper than you can rent one and don’t even get me started on hotel prices.”

He snorted at her and the cold air of the early evening filled his lungs. He had assumed that people exaggerated about the weather regarding Britain, but upon seeing the grey clouded sky as an indication that rain would soon be falling, he understood they’d been right.

“I’ll apparate us to my apartment seeing as it’s in the Wizarding World. It’s too far to drive given how tired I am and it’ll cost quite a bit to get a taxi. With apparition, I can have us there in a matter of minutes. So, I need you to prepare yourself.”

“For what?” He asked, as she slipped into an alleyway and out of sight.

“This will feel very strange. It won’t hurt you, but it will make you feel dizzy and nauseous. I want you to close your eyes, relax your body and bend your knees ready for the landing.”

Once he shut his eyes at her instruction to do so, he felt her step into him and her arm curled around his own before a strange sensation took over him.

~000~000~000~

He landed on his feet and stumbled slightly and with her hold on him, Hermione steadied him.

“You alright?” She asked, concern in her voice.

He nodded and immediately regretted it as a dizzy spell hit him and he swayed slightly.

“Keep your eyes closed until it passes,” she instructed and he allowed her to guide him until he felt something brush against his legs and she gently pushed him down until he was sitting on a soft leather cushion.

He heard her footsteps echoing and despite his curiosity to his surroundings, he kept his eyes closed and took steadying breaths, trying to fight off the nausea. Her footsteps alerted him to her return and he felt a glass of cold liquid being pressed into his hand. He took it from her slowly, not wanting to drop it and he took slow sips. The water helped to fight off the nausea and once the dizzy spell had finally passed, he slowly opened his eyes, immediately getting caught in the worried gaze that belonged to Hermione as she crouched down in front of him.

“I’m alright,” he told her.

A relieved smile pulled at her mouth and she nodded slightly. “Well done,” she praised. “Most that apparate for the first time either throw up or pass out, especially when you side-along, I blacked out for nearly twenty minutes my first time.”

She stood and stepped back, allowing him the chance to finally take in his surroundings. The apartment was a lot bigger than he was expecting, and it was certainly bigger than his own, almost triple the size.

The room was opened planned with the kitchen, dining area and living room being rolled into one. The room was decorated in light calming colours, the walls a pale blue with accents of silver and white and the flooring being white marble throughout. A dark wooden coffee table sat in front of him with a black leather armchair off to the side, and he was currently perched on the matching couch. A fireplace dominated the back wall with a large mirror settled above it. To the left, he noticed pale blue flowy curtains which were open and showed doors that led to a balcony. He turned to look behind him, seeing a large dining table that matched the coffee table and six padded chairs sat around it. On the wall, he saw photo frames of different sizes and photos of people he assumed were her family, and much to his surprise, most of the photos were actually moving!

He shook his head and turned towards the kitchen, seeing the dark marble countertop and the kitchen island with three black padded stools sat in front of it. The cupboard doors were a light colour, and a black double oven sat in the middle of the countertops.

He noticed that there was a distinct lack of electronic and technological items, there were no lights that he could see, or a TV, or a refrigerator and freezer.

“I should tell you, I realise that you’ve noticed that I don’t have any electronic or technological items, and that is due to the fact they won’t work, including your mobile phone.” He felt his eyebrows rise slightly. “Magic will render it useless, as it does with anything that runs on electricity or radio waves. Should you use your mobile phone in here and when around magic, you risk the chance of it exploding.”

“No electronic devices, got it,” he nodded.

“Alright, seeing as it’s early evening, we may as well have dinner and then head straight to bed, we’re going to need sleep and I’m sorry to say, you’re probably not going to get a lot of it in the coming days. Since this case crossed my desk, I’ve found that I spend more time at my office than I do here, and I’ve pulled more all-nighters than should be possible.”

She made her way into the kitchen and he stood and followed after her, taking a seat on one of the stools and watching as she dug through the cupboards, removing various food items.

“We don’t need appliances such as fridges, freezers and kettles. With a few spells, we are able to place the correct Cooling and Freezing Charms over our food items to prevent them from spoiling or defrosting,” she explained.

His eyes never strayed from her, watching as she waved her wand this way and that, watching as pots and pans and knives and food items swirled about the room and were directed to where she wanted them to be.

“Are you allergic to anything?” She asked him, flicking her wand and a knife set to work cutting up some peppers.

He shook his head slightly. “Not that I’m aware of,” he responded and she nodded her head without looking at him.

“Any foods that you’re not particularly fond of?”

“I don’t like olives or mushrooms,” he answered.

“They’re awful,” she nodded in agreement.

They fell silent and he continued to watch her magically preparing dinner, fascinated by the way she barely looked up from her task as she flicked her wand and muttered under her breath and ingredients that had been prepared would levitate over to her and add themselves into the food she was preparing, as a wooden spoon stirred it without her instructing it to. It wasn’t a long wait for the food to be cooked so he assumed the magic had also sped up the cooking process.

She placed a plate in front of him and refilled his glass with water, before taking the stool beside him and they ate in comfortable silence. Once they’d finished, she flicked her wand and the dishes took themselves to the sink, which filled with water and washing up liquid.

“Come on then, let’s get you comfortable,” she said, hopping off the stool and making her way down a corridor which held four closed doors and she stopped at the first door on the left. “This is your room,” she spoke, opening the door and then stepping back to allow him to step inside and survey his surroundings.

The room was much bigger than his own and it was decorated in black and cream. The two side walls being the smallest were black with cream accents and the front and back wall were cream with a few black and silver accents, and there was a large landscape portrait of an old castle in the centre of the back wall. The floor was dark wood with a soft-looking cream rug being placed on either side of the bed. There was a queen-sized bed in the centre of the room, the black leather headboard being pushed up against the wall and the bedding was a cream colour. Two cream bedside tables sat either side of the bed with large candles placed on the surface; he presumed they were used for lighting when it grew darker. Behind the door, he noticed there to be a cream coloured chest of drawers and a matching double door wardrobe beside it, whilst on the right wall there was a door which was left ajar and he could see it led to a bathroom.

“What’s that?” He asked, gesturing to the painting of the old castle.

A fond but sad smile crossed her face when her eyes drifted over it.

“Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” she answered. “A friend of mine, someone who I went to school with painted it for me for my twentieth birthday. As you can see, he’s a brilliant artist.”

“How old are you?” He asked curiously.

She raised an eyebrow but answered anyway. “Twenty-four, I’ll be twenty-five in September.”

So his assumptions were right, she was around his age, barely a year older than him as his birthday was in August.

“Okay, I’ll leave you to it, if you find yourself hungry or in need of a drink, just help yourself to whatever you wish to in the kitchen. If you wish to use the shower, there’s a switch behind the door which you need to turn on in order to activate the water. There should be towels in the cabinet below the sink. If there’s anything that you require that you didn’t bring with you, just make a list and I’ll see that everything is taken care of. You’ll find a notebook and pen in the draw of the right bedside table. Alright?” He nodded. “Well then, good night, Deputy.”

As she stepped out the door he called her name. “Hermione?”

She turned slightly to face him. “Yes?”

“Do you think I can have that book back?” He asked, a little nervous she would tell him no and he’d be bored out of his mind having nothing to occupy his attention until he felt he could sleep.

A smile appeared on her face and he felt himself relax at the expression.

“Of course,” she responded, digging into her blazer pocket and pulling out _Hogwarts, a History_ , before stepping closer to him and handing him the large tome. “I confess, growing up that was my favourite book and it still is to this day, I must’ve read it hundreds of times by this point,” she chuckled with a shake of her head. “If you need me, my room’s at the end of the corridor.”

“Thank you,”

“Get some sleep, Deputy, you’re going to need it,” she replied, walking out of the room and closing the door after her.

He placed his duffle bag on the floor before perching himself on the end of the comfortable bed, his eyes slowly taking in his surroundings as it all began to sink in.

Magic really did exist. He really had been recruited by a witch to help take down a murderous creature that had already killed hundreds of people. He really had accepted her offer. He really had gotten on a twelve hour flight with the beautiful woman. He really was in Britain, and staying in her apartment in the hidden Wizarding World.

He flopped back onto the bed and sighed, running his hands over his face. Despite what he had faced in the past, despite helping to destroy The Beast, he got the feeling that even with his hellhound side, this was going to be a lot more difficult.

With his thoughts running through his mind, his body still aching from the flight and his stomach being full of the delicious meal the little witch had cooked for him, he felt himself beginning to tire. Maybe sleep would come easy to him tonight, God knows he needed it.

~000~000~000~

He woke to the smell of bacon and a dark sky the following morning. He had no idea what time it was, but he could hear footsteps echoing from outside of his room, and knowing they only belonged to one person and feeling better rested than he had in a long time, he decided to get up no matter the time.

He’d fallen asleep reading _Hogwarts, a History_ before he’d gotten chance to shower, so he climbed out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. After retrieving a towel from the cabinet beneath the sink and quickly showering, he dried off and dressed in a plain black t-shirt with a bit of a v-neck, a pair of dark jeans and white trainers.

He left the room and followed the smell of bacon to the kitchen and when Hermione came into view, he could smell that she had recently showered and see that she was dressed and ready for the day.

The scent of strawberries and honey lingered in the air and he knew it to be coming from her, he’d noticed her scent when she’d fallen asleep against his shoulder on the flight, and with her head being close to his he’d been able to smell the sweet fruity scent in her hair.

Her hair still looked to be damp and it was left to hang down her back in a tangle of unruly curls. She wore dark skinny jeans with a black blouse tucked into the waistband and the first couple of buttons left unfastened. He noticed that this blouse had sleeves and covered the horrendous scar he knew her to have. Over the top of her clothing, she wore a burgundy blazer and on her feet, she wore black heeled ankle boots. He thought she looked rather lovely.

He sat himself down on a stool and upon hearing him do so, she turned to look over her shoulder, giving him a small smile in greeting.

“Morning,” she said softly.

“Morning,” he replied back.

“How was your first night’s sleep in Britain?”

“Peaceful,” he answered honestly. “I don’t remember the last time I slept so well.”

“I’m glad to hear that, though it may just be due to the fact we hardly slept the day before and we spent twelve hours on a plane and crossed time zones,” she shrugged. “So, what’s your poison? Tea or coffee?”

“Coffee, please,” he answered, taking the mug from her once she’d prepared it and declining her offer of milk and sugar.

Although it was nowhere near as good as the coffee you’d get from a coffee shop or a machine, it wasn’t half bad, and it was definitely better than the God awful stuff they had at the station.

He noticed that she prepared herself a coffee, too, and he took note that she added a single sugar and a third milk, before sipping at the liquid as she turned over the sausages in the frying pan.

“What time is it?” He asked.

“A little after six, I think,” she said.

He felt his eyebrows rise, he knew she said that she wanted to go into her office early, but he assumed that to mean around eight, at this rate they’d likely get there for seven, and judging by the sky outside, the sun would just be beginning to rise at that time.

He shook his head and turned his attention to sipping at his coffee until a large plate was set in front of him and he blinked several times at the various foods items before him; sausages, bacon, scrambled eggs, lightly buttered toast, hash browns, baked beans and what looked to be tomatoes.

“You’re in Britain now, you may be here to help me with a case, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to make sure you have the chance to experience some of our culture and traditions, hence, a traditional English breakfast. Usually, it would contain mushrooms but seeing as you mentioned you don’t like them, I substituted them for hash browns, and I don’t think you’d like black pudding either, it’s an acquired taste,” she finished with a grimace and he found himself touched by her thoughtfulness and amused by her words.

They ate through breakfast fairly quickly and he left to retrieve his dark brown leather jacket, slipping it on and grabbing the shortlist he’d made of items he needed so he could give it to Hermione.

When he returned to the living room, Hermione was by the fireplace and he stopped in his steps to observe her behaviour. She was crouched down in front of the burning flames, her body angled slightly so he was able to see the way her eyes were shining amber in colour, and he realised, it was very much the same as when he was near an open flame. He’d often been told his eyes changed to amber when he was staring at a flame or when his hellhound side was free.

She lifted her hand closer to the flames as if to touch them and a thought crossed his mind that he should stop her before she hurt herself, yet she didn’t move her hand any closer. She just held it in place, the glow of the fire illuminating her beautiful features as she stared, entranced by the dancing flames.

As soon as she noticed his presence she cleared her throat and stood up, straightening out her blazer and turning her eyes to him.

“Ready?”

“All set,” he confirmed, moving over to her and not mentioning what he’d witnessed.

“Alright, I know you’re technically fire-proof but I’m going to tell you anyway, what we’re about to do isn’t going to hurt you, once we step into the fireplace the flames are magical and they are unable to harm us. We’re going to use a form of magical travel which we call flooing. This is similar to teleportation except we are only able to floo to a destination that has a fireplace that is connected to the floo network. We will be flooing to The British Ministry of Magic, which is our government headquarters and it is based in London. You might feel a little dizzy but it will soon pass.”

He nodded, a slight crease in his forehead.

She summoned a pair of black robes and slipped them on and he didn’t bother looking surprised since she’d mentioned it was the norm for wizarding folk and it was a part of their culture and traditions.

There was a dish sat on top of the fireplace and she took a handful of the powder inside before holding her hand out to him. Not needing her to explain, he fit his much larger hand around her smaller one and when she stepped into the flames he followed after her, surprised to see that the flames turned green in colour and there was no heat coming off them.

“Ministry of Magic,” Hermione called clearly, throwing the powder down into the grate and a cloud of smoke surrounded them as he felt himself being pulled backwards.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Page Count: 8

He kept a tight hold of Hermione’s hand and didn’t let go until after they’d arrived at their destination and he followed her out of the fireplace. She brushed the soot off herself and he did the same.

He took in his surroundings, the large atrium they were in had dozens of fireplaces lining the walls, it had a glass dome ceiling, stone walls and dark marble flooring with stone statues of creatures he didn’t recognise dotted about. In the centre of the large room sat a large and beautiful fountain with a stone carved centaur and mermaid sat on a podium in the centre. The entire building was silent with the exception of the running water from the fountain and their footsteps, which echoed as he followed her to an elevator.

“Quick warning, our elevators are able to move in more than one direction, rather than the standard movement of up and down.”

He raised an eyebrow but found himself stumbling slightly and he was forced to grip onto the railing to stop him from falling over when the elevator suddenly took off.

“The Ministry is much like your own government, only our departments are specifically suited to our people and our needs. We have the Family Affairs Department, the Magical Sports and Games Department, the Magical Transportation Department, the Department of Mysteries, the Auror and Law Enforcement Department which is essentially magical policemen, and there’s also my Department, which is the Regulations and Control of Magical Creatures Department. There are other departments I’ve not mentioned, but each department also has sub-divisions and offices. The RCMC Department has a total of eight sub-divisions and whilst each division has its own head, I am the overall Department of Head, meaning I have seniority over all decisions and sub-divisions.”

“You’re the big boss,” he commented.

He had been impressed by her before, but after learning this new piece of information, that had only skyrocketed. She was in charge of eight different sub-divisions and she was only twenty-four!

Her mouth twitched into a smile. “Essentially, yes, I’m the big boss.”

She stepped out of the elevator and he quickly followed, all too happy to get far away from it and he followed her down a large room that was filled with hundreds of cubicles and every so often he’d see an office, but she continued on right to the end of the room, where there sat what looked to be a reception desk without all the electrical equipment and a much larger office took up the entirety of what should’ve been the back wall.

She took her wand and touched it to the door and it glowed blue before swinging open and he followed in after her.

A large oak desk sat in the centre of the room and it was the first thing you saw when you walked through the door. The desk had stacks and stacks of files sitting on the surface at the right end of the desk. To the left end of the desk sat stacks upon stacks of what looked to be reports, and next to them sat newspaper articles. Behind the desk sat a large office chair, and behind that were several filing cabinets. Towards the right of the room, he saw there to be more filing cabinets only they were labelled by what he guessed to be the sub-divisions she’d mentioned since there were eight of them. To the left of the room he saw there to be a comfortable looking white couch and a matching armchair and in front of that sat a small coffee table which matched her desk. He noticed there to be a few photo frames that were positioned about the room, and the entirety of the left wall looked to be a makeshift crime board and he assumed it was for the case she was currently working on.

She removed both her robes and blazer and hung them up on the coat rack that was in the corner of the room and hidden by the door. She held her hand out expectantly and he quickly removed his own leather jacket and handed it to her to be hung up, before she made her way around her desk and took her seat and she gestured to the chair opposite her, which he took.

She was going to speak when she looked down at her desk with a slight frown, apparently not recognising the paperwork that sat directly in front of her. She picked it up and skimmed through it before a sad look crossed her face and she placed the papers off to the side.

“It seems in my absence to recruit you, a further seven bodies have been found,” she sighed, bringing her hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose. “They were found over three separate towns in Wales, and their times of death appear to be five weeks ago.”

She swivelled her chair to face towards the crime board and in the centre of it sat a large map of Europe. She muttered under her breath and flicked her wand and several differently coloured dots appeared to mark the map and add to the collection that was already there.

“The blue dots indicate the countries where Prodigium has left victims, the yellow dots indicate the exact location the bodies were found, the green dots indicate the time of deaths and the red dots are the number of bodies that have been found,” she explained.

He felt his breath leave him as he stared at the map in horror, there were so many colours and dots marked that it was hard to even begin to see a pattern forming, so he could see why it would be difficult for them to track it or predict its next attack.

He turned back to her to see her rubbing at her temples with a frustrated look on her face, and he realised she’d been dealing with this for months without any help. He didn’t know how she hadn’t yet had a breakdown, if it were him he’d have done so long ago.

“Right, so let’s get started.”

~000~000~000~

Parrish had gotten himself more comfortable on the couch and had spent the last couple of hours familiarising himself with the case by reading through the official reports, witness accounts and looking over the little evidence they had and just when he thought he’d finished, Hermione would flick her wand and another stack of files would fly out of one of the filing cabinets from behind her and gently settle themselves down on the coffee table.

He must’ve read through hundreds of reports, hoping to find anything that Hermione may have missed but there was nothing. There was no indication that the creature was supernatural but from Hermione’s notes, there was none that it was magical either. They’d tried tracking it but ultimately failed, they’d tried stopping it when they’d managed to arrive at its location before it left, and they failed at that, too, several of their people getting severely injured in the process. It seemed no witness account was the exact same either, and in order to get a general profile, Hermione had taken the overlapping factors in order to hopefully give them a general description, but it wasn’t concrete.

He sighed and tore his eyes away from the report in front him, needing a break from reading about a thirteen-year-old witch that had been walking her dog only to end up being torn limb from limb when the creature stumbled upon her.

“I don’t know how you’ve done this for so long,” he spoke, drawing her attention away from the reports in front of her. “I feel I’m about to lose my mind and I’ve only been doing this a couple of hours.”

She leaned back in her chair and swivelled it around to better face him.

“I can’t give up; if I do people will continue to die until there’s nothing left to fight for. There’s too many people counting on me, on us, to just give in. Now that you’re here, I’m hoping things will start picking up and we’ll make progress.”

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up, Hermione, I’m only looking over everything that you already have and I can’t find anything that you haven’t.”

“Give it some time, Deputy, as you said, you’ve only been at this a couple of hours, and there’s still hundreds of files that I need you to look over, including the new ones I’ll be receiving shortly for the victims that were found in Wales.”

He nodded and sighed softly before turning his attention back to the reports before him.

~000~000~000~

The sun had long since made an appearance and he could hear the faint chatter and footsteps of those that sat at the cubicles outside of Hermione’s office. He wasn’t sure on the time, but he’d assume it was nearing lunch given how long they’d been at their tasks.

He pushed the reports away from him and sat back on the couch, allowing his head to tilt back to rest against the cushion and he rubbed a hand over his face.

“Nothing?” Hermione spoke distractedly, and he knew she hadn’t taken her eyes away from her own desk even if he wasn’t looking at her.

“Nothing,” he confirmed with a sigh. “Remind me again what this creature looks like.”

He heard her shuffling the papers on her desk before she stood and pushed her office chair away from her desk and stopping opposite him, the coffee table separating them. She sat down and rested her arms on her legs before leaning closer to him and he found himself sitting up and leaning closer to her, too.

“The witness accounts are inconsistent. Some say the creature had red eyes, some say amber but the majority said glowing blue. Some said it had fur as black as night, others said it was brown, some say it had long fur and others short, and therefore, we can’t be sure on either. Almost all of the witnesses said it was fast, large and strong and that it had sharp teeth and claws, so we’re at least fairly certain about these particular traits. Some said it growled like a wolf, others said it didn’t make any sound at all.”

He bit his lip in thought and she’d be lying if she said her eyes didn’t zero in on the action before she shook her head.

“We’re certain this creature is part werewolf based on some of the characteristics, but others don’t fit with what we know regarding the species. Not only are the characteristics not completely compatible, but there’s also the fact that this creature is killing on nights where there isn’t a full moon.”

“I don’t see how that matters, I’ve seen Scott and Liam go full-blown werewolf during the day, eyes, fangs, claws, hair, the whole lot. They don’t seem to need the full moon, and I’ve seen them being able to control themselves during the full moon and they haven’t changed at all,” Parrish said with a frown.

“That’s because they’re not true werewolves.”

“What’d you mean?” He asked confused.

“Scott and Liam, they’re not true werewolves. They’re what we refer to as Class C Lupines.” He tilted his head slightly and Hermione thought it adorable that he looked like a confused puppy. “A true werewolf is only able to shift on the night of the full moon and at no other time in their lives. A true werewolf can only become so by being bitten or deeply scratched on the night of a full moon, were we know Class C Lupines can be born from werewolves and inherit their abilities. A true werewolf will still possess their accelerated healing, speed, strength and superior senses, and their eyes may change if they lose their temper, but they are unable to shift. And on the night of the full moon, the transformation is so painful werewolves have actually been known to die mid-transformation. And when they transform, it’s not in the way Scott and Liam do, they transform into an actual wolf and are stuck in their forms until the following morning.”

Hermione summoned a photograph of a true werewolf and handed it to him and his eyes widened at the sight.

“Okay, I wasn’t expecting that,” he muttered and she laughed softly. “How many types of werewolves are there?” He asked, handing the photograph back to her.

“At the moment we’ve four classes. Class A is what I’ve just shown you, a werewolf that transforms with the full moon and only the full moon. Class B is a werewolf that has been bitten by a Class A werewolf and they were Muggles, a non-magical human being. Class A werewolves will still have their magic, they are still wizarding folk whereas Class B werewolves aren’t. Class C are werewolves such as Scott and Liam, they’re able to transform at will and they tend to be non-magicals. And finally, Class D are werewolves that are born to a werewolf parent, usually a male as females are generally infertile, and they do not possess lycanthropy, but their senses do tend to be sharper and they may be aware of when other werewolves are nearby.”

“Who would’ve thought there were so many types of werewolves?” He mumbled and she laughed at him.

“I know, it’s a lot to take in, but you’re doing remarkably well and I’m actually quite impressed.” He felt himself sit up taller at her words, all but preening under her complement. “Anyway, due to the killings happening on nights that are not a full moon, this is why we’re sure the creature is only part werewolf and part something else, but we’re not sure what yet. We’ve got no identifiable characteristics to work with. Our magic allows for us to look into a person’s mind and see their memories, and we’re able to remove our own memories and store them away so we may watch them at a later date.” He blinked at that. “But the witnesses are so traumatised by what they’ve seen, their memories are unreliable. What we need is an actual photo or some video footage of the creature but it’s too fast.”

He opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted before he could.

“GRANGER! GRANGER!”

“Oh fantastic, here we go again,” she sighed, bringing her hands up to her temples.

“Who is that?” He questioned, staring at the door warily.

“Where the bloody hell are you!”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s just Camden,” she answered.

“Who?”

“Camden, my predecessor. He retired three years ago and I took over as Department Head. He’s got a wizarding illness which is similar to dementia, but with him being a wizard and having access to his magic, it makes him dangerous.”

“GRANGER!”

“Is this a regular occurrence?” He asked, seeing the way she didn’t look the least bit worried, if anything she looked annoyed.

“Unfortunately, every day for the last three years he’s turned up here, and he harasses me and my staff before security arrives and escorts him off the premises. Don’t worry, they’ll be here soon and they’ll get rid of him.”

“Granger! What are you doing in my office!” An angry voice demanded.

He saw the way her eyes flashed amber and her hands clenched into tight fists.

“You can’t hex him, Hermione, you can’t hex him,” she muttered to herself before she sat up in her chair and then with her feet she pushed her chair across the room and back behind the desk.

She leaned back casually and clasped her hands gently in front of her as her elbows rested on the armrests of the chair. Parrish felt the hellhound in him becoming restless and he shifted uncomfortably while his eyes remained on the older man.

“Philip, how are you feeling, much better I hope?” Hermione spoke politely.

“That’s none of your business, get out of my office!”

“Unfortunately this is my office, Philip, you retired three years ago and I was promoted,” she replied.

“How dare you steal my position!”

Parrish felt his eyes narrowing when the old man seemed to fumble for something in his pocket.

“I didn’t steal your position, I was promoted.”

“And who’d you sleep with to get that!” He replied coldly with a sneer.

A growl was rumbling in his chest and Parrish wasn’t sure if it was the hellhound’s doing or his own. He didn’t like seeing her being spoken to in such a manner, but Hermione seemed un-phased.

“Philip, I assure you, despite your reference to me as being a strumpet, I am not one. Please leave, Norton and Ferry are on their way as we speak, if they have to arrest you, Norton’s going to be a foul mood as he’ll have to fill out the arrest papers,” she said.

“You... You job-stealing harpy!”

“I’m not sure if that’s better than being called a trollop or not,” she mused, tipping her head slightly.

“I’d say not, at least as a trollop someone would actually _want_ to sleep with you,” a second voice spoke up.

Parrish briefly turned his eyes to the two men that were stood in the doorway. The younger one leaning against the door frame with such a casual manner that he didn’t like it, and he certainly didn’t like the way he sent a wink to Hermione and she raised an eyebrow in response.

“Good, you’re here, it’s about time, remove this trespassing sex witch at once. She’s dirtying up my workspace.”

“Charming,” Hermione scoffed. 

“Come on, Philip, let’s leave the pretty witch alone, yeah? She’s done nothing to you and she’s very busy changing the world.” The blonde spoke.

“If you won’t remove her, I will!”

Parrish stood from the couch so fast he made himself dizzy and he barely restrained himself from running over to Hermione and jumping in front of the strange orange light, but her calmness had prevented him from doing so. Much to his awe, a blue shield appeared in front of her and the orange beam ricocheted and slammed into the wall, leaving behind a scorch mark.

“I’m billing you for that,” she rolled her eyes as the old man was hit with two beams of light before his entire body seemed to stiffen as if he’d turned into stone and before he fell to the floor, he was levitated and led out of the room by the older of the two men, whilst the blonde stayed behind, once more leaning against the door frame.

“Well, Granger, I’d be happy to pay double the asking price for your services,” he spoke, a flirty smile on his face.

Parrish clenched his hands into fists in order to stop himself from moving over to the blonde and knocking him unconscious for his comment. He hadn’t known the meaning of ‘strumpet’ or ‘trollop’ but once ‘sex witch’ had been brought up, he got the idea fairly quickly and his fury was building inside of him like a raging fire.

“Only double, Norton?” She asked. “I expected more from you,” she said.

Much to Parrish’s surprise, Hermione wasn’t outraged like he expected her to be, she was amused. The twinkle in her eye and the smile on her mouth was unmistakable. He wasn’t sure what he hated more; Hermione being insulted and harassed or her flirting with another man, and right in front of him, too!

“Who’s that?” The blonde gestured to him by tilting his head in his direction.

“None of your business,” she replied, her eyes not moving from the blonde.

“Fair enough, anyway, I’d give my last sickle for you to agree to a date with me.”

Parrish felt something inside of him freeze.

“Norton, you’ll get hurt,” she warned, she still looked amused but the flirty smile was gone from her face.

“Maybe, but it’ll be worth it,” he responded, pushing away from the door frame and stalking towards her desk, resting his hands on the surface and leaning over it so he was closer to her. “It’ll be worth it to see if I’m the one that’s able to tame the untameable Hermione Granger.”

“You’ll get burned, Norton. You and I both know you can’t handle my fire.”

“There’s only one way to find out,” he shrugged his shoulders.

Parrish was rooted to the spot when he saw Hermione push her chair away from her desk and stand, before slowly walking around her desk until she was standing before the taller wizard.

“No, there isn’t,” she spoke, the amusement gone from her voice. “I’ve told you, I can handle your flirting but you need to forget about me and find yourself a witch that isn’t going to burn you.”

“I can handle it,” he said stubbornly.

Hermione cocked her head to the side and Parrish held his breath when Hermione lifted her hand and slowly trailed her fingers down the blonde’s face. He winced and flinched back from her slightly.

“You can’t handle my fire and you’ll get hurt, Norton. I value our friendship too much to risk harming you.” She turned and made her way back to her chair, pulling herself back to her desk once she’d sat down.

“I’m not giving up,” the blonde said.

“I didn’t think you would,” she replied.

“I’ll convince you to go out with me eventually, but until then, I’ll see you tomorrow, Granger.”

“See you later, Norton,” she said, her voice distracted as she had her attention on the reports in front of her.

Only when the blonde left did Parrish take a deep breath and he felt his hellhound once more settle down, feeling much calmer that Hermione was once again safe from harm. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Page Count: 8

“You alright?” She spoke, startling him.

“Sorry?”

“I said are you alright?”

He took another breath and slowly uncurled his fists and nodded.

“Yeah, I’m alright, I just didn’t appreciate the way that man was speaking to you,” he said honestly.

She stopped what she was doing and looked up at him, a curious look entering her eyes.

“Really?”

“Yes, no woman should be spoken to in such a degrading way, particularly someone who’s worked hard to get to where they are.”

A smile pulled at her mouth. “You continue to surprise me, Deputy,” she said softly, and it looked as though she planned to say more but there was a knock on the door.

His head turned to see a redheaded woman entering the room and carrying a white plastic bag and from the smell, he guessed it to contain food.

“I’ve brought lunch,” she said and Hermione smiled at the woman and he sat back down on the couch, quietly watching them interact.

“Thank you, Kara, I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you,” Hermione said.

“Good thing you can’t get rid of me then. Thank you for giving me the morning off,” she said, sitting herself down in the chair opposite Hermione without a care in the world.

“Of course, what did the healers say?”

“Nothing has changed and the experimental treatment they’re giving Jon doesn’t appear to be working, but they wish to give his body more time to properly absorb the medication before they make any decisions.”

Hermione nodded. “If there’s anything you need just ask.”

“Well, there is something.” Hermione raised an eyebrow. “You know Hogwarts has the new stipulation that students are unable to graduate unless they’ve done one hundred hours in a professional workplace, in order to better prepare them for life outside of the castle?” Hermione nodded. “Well, Daniel is set to graduate next year and he hasn’t yet found a placement, and Nathan graduates the following year and he needs a placement also. Daniel wishes to become an Auror and Nathan’s got his sights set on the Spirits Division, I was hoping you’d put in a good word and help them get a placement.”

“I don’t have to put in a good word, being Head of Department I’m the one that has to sign off on the application, my word overrules Stanpick’s, and as for Daniel, I’ll mention it to Harry and he’ll see about getting him a placement in the Auror Department, Head Auror Howard seems to like him so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Thank you,” she said with a wide smile.

“You’re the reason I haven’t yet died from starvation and dehydration, it’s the least I can do.”

Kara turned her head towards Parrish and he shifted uncomfortably when her eyes slowly trailed over him before a smirk appeared on her face and she turned her eyes back to Hermione.

“Remember what I said about your fire?” Hermione frowned but nodded. “Just remember, Seer blood,” she said with a knowing smirk and Hermione eyed her strangely as the older woman stood. “Is there anything else you need?”

“Yes, actually,” Hermione answered and she turned to Parrish. “Deputy, do you have that list?”

He nodded and removed it from his jean pocket, moving over to her desk to hand it to her. Her eyes briefly scanned the items on the list. _Razors, shaving foam, soap_ , she rolled her eyes, before handing it over to Kara.

“When I asked if there was anything you needed, I was referring to things such as preferred beverages and snacks, maybe books or research materials,” she said to him and he shrugged in response. “You better get him some clothes, too, I reckon he only packed enough for a week and he may be here longer,” she said to Kara and when he didn’t correct her, she knew she was right.

Kara nodded, before removing a quill from her pocket and she had it poised and ready to write on the paper in her hand.

“Size?”

“We have different size dimensions to the US,” Hermione said.

Before Parrish could blink, he had a wand pointed at him and he started glowing different shades of blues and reds before the colours disappeared and Kara was muttering to herself as she scribbled on the paper.

“She used to be a seamstress,” Hermione explained with a shrug, to his confused face.

“Alright,” Kara spoke. “Do you prefer boxers or briefs?”

“Excuse me?” He spluttered in surprise.

Hermione sniggered at him. “You might as well tell her, she’s not going to leave until you do.”

“I don’t mind either,” he muttered.

“I’ll get both then. Do you want me to get him some robes?” She turned to Hermione.

She frowned in thought and then nodded. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt, it’ll help him to better blend in, too. We’ll say three black and one navy blue, go to Twilfitt and Tattings.”

“Still punishing Madam Malkin I see,” she said amused.

Hermione shrugged. “The horrid woman not only called me fat, but she refused to serve Andy because she had little Teddy with her. She’s not only lost me as a customer, causing her to lose almost two thousand galleons a year from me alone, but people have already begun to notice I’m no longer shopping there.”

“The power of being a celebrity,” the redhead smirked and Hermione shrugged her shoulders. “Okay, I’ll head out now and get everything. I’ll see you later,” she spoke as she turned and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Hermione began removing the food from the bag, smiling when she knew Kara had gone to her favourite fish and chips shop. She gestured for Parrish to sit in the chair and she passed him his food over.

“Fish and chips,” she shrugged.

He eyed the food in front of him before cautiously picking up a chip which had been covered in salt and vinegar and popping it into his a mouth, a look of surprise surfacing on his face before he nodded to himself and went back for another chip, apparently deciding he liked it.

“What did this woman do?” He asked curiously.

“Madam Malkin, she owns one of the clothing shops in the busiest magical shopping town in Britain. She’s one of the cheaper businesses and her quality of work isn’t bad. She mainly makes her money through the children’s school robes and uniforms. Remus Lupin was a very good friend of mine and he died in the war along with his wife, Tonks, they left behind a newborn baby,” she spoke, sadness entering her voice before she shook it off. “Remus was a Class A werewolf and back in those times, werewolves were despised by most and they didn’t even have basic human rights, which has now all changed, thankfully. Now, Teddy is a Class D werewolf, his father being a known werewolf and his mother a witch. Andromeda was Tonks’ mother and she took custody of Teddy. Since everyone knew of Remus, they knew of Teddy too and when Andy visited Malkin’s, she refused to serve her as she had Teddy with her. He’s the most adorable child you’ll ever meet. I love the bones off that little boy and I sure as hell won’t allow him to be treated in such a way. He’s as innocent as anyone could possibly be and to treat a child the way she had, I’m not going to allow her to get away with it scot-free. Malkin needs to learn there’s always consequences to your actions and if she doesn’t her business will suffer.”

His mind thought over her words and he felt a smile pull at his mouth at her clear protectiveness over the small child. It was evident that she cared for the boy and if he’d read her character correctly after knowing her for only a couple of days, he got the feeling she’d turn the world upside down to ensure no child should be treated in such a way. She was very much a mamma bear.

“And Kara? She seems a bit strange,” he commented.

She snorted at him. “No, she’s a lot strange,” she corrected. “She’s my PA and she’s been with me for just over a year. I went through six PA’s in two years, five quit and one I had to fire because I caught her stealing from other’s bags. Actually, one of my PA’s only lasted two days before she quit. Kara had no experience, but both her sons were at Hogwarts and her husband was paralysed from the waist down during the war. She’s a strong woman and she needed a job to pay the bills and I just knew she was the right one for the job. She’s not afraid of me, and she knows me so well that half the time she does things for me that I haven’t even asked her to do, but she seems to know I was going to. Apparently her family has Seer blood.”

“Seer blood?”

“Basically like a psychic, but they’re legitimate and quite rare. She seems to just know things, I can’t really explain it,” she shrugged.

“Why do you want me to blend in?” He asked.

“To keep you safe, that’s the main reason behind you staying with me.”

“But why do I need to be kept safe?”

“I’ve told you, Deputy. You have no idea how special you are, hellhounds were powerful creatures back in the day and they were worshipped and coveted for their abilities. A lot of people tried to hunt and catch them so they could say they owned a hellhound and it would increase their social standing within the world. After so long, hellhounds became extinct and they were rare to begin with anyway. On record, there hasn’t been a living hellhound seen since the late 1600s.”

He shifted in his chair and his hellhound squirmed inside of him, making him feel nauseous. “But hellhounds can’t be killed,” he said.

“You’ve been misinformed. Hellhounds can be killed it’s just not easy to do so. You’ll have a long life span, I’m unsure if you’ll be able to die of old age, but I do know you most certainly can be killed.” He was surprised by the news. “When I discovered your existence I could hardly believe it, and I wish to prevent past events from reoccurring and to protect you from such a fate. There is only one other that knows of your existence and I trust him with my life. He’s known me since I was a child and we fought in battle together during the war, he’s now the Minister of Magic, the magical President, and he’s the one that gave me the go-ahead to find you and ask for your help. We’re not going to tell anyone who you are, we’re going to ensure that your status is kept secret and that you are kept safe and that’s why I haven’t actively introduced you to anyone.”

“You don’t wish to draw attention to me,” he nodded in understanding.

“Exactly, and I wish to help you.”

“Help me? How?”

She leaned forward and moved her food off to the side. “Are you and the hellhound as one?”

“As in?”

“As in when your hellhound comes forward, do you have control over your actions? Do you remember what happened? Are you able to bring your hellhound forward by will?”

He frowned slightly. “No, when I’m the hellhound I don’t remember anything afterwards and as far as I can tell, everything that happens is based on instinct. And my hellhound is only able to come forward when I’m near an open flame.”

“If I could help you, would you accept?”

“How can you help me?” He asked intrigued.

“By ensuring that you and your hellhound are one cohesive entity, when you are the hellhound, I can make it so that you remember everything and that you have control over your own actions and decisions. And I can teach you how to bring the hellhound forward without the need to be in the presence of fire.”

“That’s impossible,” he frowned.

She gave him a soft smile. “I assure you, Deputy, it’s not. There is so much that you are capable of, you just don’t know it. You’re incredibly powerful and your hellhound will protect you and keep you safe if you allow it to.”

He seemed to be lost in thought, judging by the way he had a crease in his forehead and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip.

“I’ll let you help me if I’m allowed to ask you any question I wish to and you have to answer honestly.”

“So let me get this straight, in order to for me to help you better understand yourself and your abilities, which I am doing for your benefit, I have to answer any question you pose?”

“Exactly,” he nodded.

“That makes perfect sense,” she quipped and rolled her eyes. “I only want what’s best for you and if that means I have to undergo the Spanish inquisition then I suppose I will do so.”

He opened his mouth, likely to ask the question he wished to but the office door was suddenly flung open and an angry-looking wizard stormed into the room, his pale face had flushed cheeks, his blue eyes glittered with annoyance and his thin lips were pressed into a tight line.

Hermione’s soft, caring look disappeared from her eyes and was replaced by annoyance, she pursed her lips in anger and her eyes narrowed dangerously as she sat up straight in her chair.

“Exactly what do you think you are doing barging into my office and so rudely at that?” She demanded, her voice crisp and clear and her irritation unmistakable.

“Your door was closed,” the middle-aged man said gruffly, his wand tightly gripped in his hand and his own eyes narrowed into slits.

“I am aware of that, Martin, when my door is closed it means I am in a meeting and I do not wish to be disturbed.”

“Some meeting,” he spat, his eyes moving between Hermione, Parrish and the food on the desk.

Parrish had gripped the armrests tightly in his hands, trying to fight back the hellhound that was raging within him at the threat the man posed to Hermione, more so than it had with the old wizard that had dementia and the flirty blonde.

“This is a lunch meeting, Martin. If you wish to see me you know fine well you must inform Kara so she may fit you into my schedule at a time that is suitable for the both of us. I have to supervise eight divisions; I cannot spend all of my time watching over you. It is your job to handle the Beasts Division and mine to ensure you are doing so to a standard that is acceptable.”

“Well you’re doing a grand job,” he sneered.

“Thank you,” Hermione spoke, knowing fine well it wasn’t a compliment but she knew it would only infuriate him more that she wasn’t rising to the bait.

His face was slowly turning redder and he gripped his wand so tightly his knuckles were turning white.

“And seeing as you’ve so rudely interrupted, I’m to assume this is a matter of life and death. So out with it, what’s the emergency?”

“There’s a backlog of fieldwork and we haven’t the staff to send out and tend to it. Several of the workers are complaining about their working hours, and duels have been breaking out in the office. I’ve been forced to step in several times whilst you’re in here charming your nails and looking pretty.”

Something was wrong, and Parrish could feel it. Hermione had stiffened in her chair and her hands gripped the armrests much like his own. She was quiet, barely breathing and her pale skin flushed pink as her eyes flashed amber and fire danced in her beautiful orbs. This wasn’t cold anger, this was white-hot fury. He thought she looked stunning. The atmosphere in the room grew stuffy and hot, and he could see a bead of sweat on Martin’s forehead.

“Listen, you egotistical, sexist pig,” Hermione hissed, standing up from her chair and placing her hands on her desk as she leaned forward. “You know fine well why I was promoted over you and you know fine well I’m the only reason you’ve still got your job. The Minister has seen your annual performance reviews and he wished to fire you on the spot for your incompetence to do the simplest of things correctly. You’re already on your last warning and you’re walking on very, _very_ thin ice.”

Parrish would swear to every deity there was that he saw little sparks of fire flying from her hair and raining down to the ground and her desk.

“Even someone with intelligence such as yours should easily be able to handle those minor issues, especially since it’s your division, all my other Division Heads seem to be handling things rather well. So as usual, I’m going to have to do your job for you when my attention should be on something else. You see that map on the wall, all those red dots, that’s the number of people that have been murdered and rather than spending my time trying to find the creature responsible, I’m babysitting you! Maybe I should tell the Minister that you’re ready for retirement, after all, you know he’s handed me several files of those that he wishes for me to consider in taking over your position.”

Martin finally seemed to realise the danger he was in and he took a step back towards the door.

“So, you haven’t the staff and you’ve got a backlog of fieldwork? Why not work alongside the Spirits Division and ask if Maggie is able to spare a few of her agents, from what I’ve been told, they’re fairly quiet with their fieldwork at the moment and are focusing their attention on completing paperwork. Some of the workers are complaining of their work hours? The simple action to take would be to speak with them and see what their problem is, if they want less hours, then give them so, if another wants more hours, then swap the shift patterns. And as for the duellers, you either move them to opposite sides of your room section or you warn them that such behaviour is not permitted in the workplace and if it continues to so, say they will face disciplinary action which may lead to the loss of their job. Simple, no?”

He nodded silently, watching her with wide eyes. It was workplace gossip that Hermione Granger had fire in her but it wasn’t often that she showed it, and when she did, you were lucky if you made it out alive.

“Wonderful, now, get out of my office, don’t you ever come in here unannounced or without my permission to do so and don’t you ever disturb me if my door is closed. What would you have done if the Minister had been in here? We are good friends after all and we have tea together once a week.”

Martin paled dramatically and a look of horror crossed his face.

“Exactly, you’d have lost your job on the spot. This is my last and final warning and next time I won’t be so lenient. Get out and do your job to the standard that I expect of you. The RCMC Department has one of the best annual performance reviews in the entire Ministry and I am not going to let you be the one that jeopardises our chances of earning a bonus at the end of the year.”

The older man all but ran from the room and pulled the door closed behind him, leaving the room in silence. Hermione took a deep breath and then sat down, calmness replacing her anger.

He released his grip on the armrests of his chair when he was sure the hellhound had settled down and his eyes fell to her desk, seeing black soot in the shape of her hands.

“I am sorry you had to see that,” she spoke, drawing his attention.

When he looked to her she looked exhausted as she rubbed at her temples and then ran a hand through her hair, pushing it back from her face.

“I’m not,” he shrugged. She raised an eyebrow. “It allowed me to see the type of person you are.”

“A cold-hearted bitch?”

“No, from what I gathered, you saved that man’s job despite that he doesn’t appear to be able to handle the responsibility he is given. You are under pressure from your boss to have him replaced and when he gives you the perfect opportunity to do so by being rude and insulting you, you allowed him another chance despite already being on his last warning. When he entered your office unannounced you remained calm and collected and you only showed your anger when he insulted your work ethic with his sexist comments. You’re the exact opposite of a cold-hearted bitch and if I worked in a place such as this, I’d be more than happy to have you as my superior.”

“You’re the first, Deputy,” she snorted.

“You know you can call me Jordan, right?”

“I know, but Deputy suits you and I quite like a man in uniform.”

She winked at him and he felt his mouth drop open as she turned away and looked into one of the drawers of her desk.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Page Count: 8

It had been a week since his arrival in Britain and the days had flown by. He would wake early in the morning to the smell of coffee and breakfast being cooked. He’d shower and dress for the day and chat comfortably with Hermione as they ate breakfast, before leaving for her office. They were always the first ones there and the last ones to leave. They’d spend most of their time going over the reports and evidence, trying their best to come up with viable options for the next course of action.

They’d break for lunch, Parrish trying his best to ignore Kara’s knowing smirks as she dropped off their food before leaving them alone. They’d continue with their work with Parrish eavesdropping whenever someone would drop by wishing for Hermione’s approval on a certain matter or wishing for her help.

They’d eat dinner in the office and continue on with their tasks until they called it a night, usually around eleven o’clock. They’d return to Hermione’s apartment and part ways to their rooms before repeating the process the following day.

Over the week, he’d spend a lot of time observing Hermione’s behaviour and mannerisms, and in doing so he’d better understood her in a way he didn’t think was possible. He knew that when she ran a hand through her hair, she was frustrated. He knew that when she sighed, she was dejected. He knew that when she closed her eyes tightly, she couldn’t take any more of reading about the person that had died in the report she was looking over. He knew that when she leaned forward in her chair with her head bowed, she’d bring her hands up to her temples soon after to try and relieve the pressure in her head.

When he saw her eyes flash amber he knew she was annoyed, when her hands clenched into fists she was angry, when her eyes sparkled she was amused, when she nibbled at her lip she was pensive. He knew her habits far better than anyone realised.

And she hadn’t been joking about Camden turning up at her office to harass and insult her, he’d done so every day so far and each time, Parrish had been forced to sit himself on the couch and to remain silent with his fists clenched tightly as he tried to calm the hellhound, but nothing did until she was out of harm’s way. It was even worse when the blonde, Norton, would show up and flirt with her, continuing to push his luck despite the fact she’d told him in clear terms that she wanted nothing to do with him other than friendship. Parrish wondered what was wrong with the man since he couldn’t seem to grasp the concept that she didn’t want him.

“Found anything yet?” Hermione’s voice cut through the silence.

He pushed the report across the coffee table and leaned back into the couch.

“No, and I’ve only got a dozen reports left to go through before I’ve finished the lot,” he replied.

“The reports for the deaths in Dublin are currently being sent over, they should be here within the hour,” she informed him.

He turned to look over his shoulder at the map on the wall, another six red dots being added to the total.

“Hermione?”

He turned towards the door, seeing Kara stood in the doorway.

“Yes, Kara,” she replied.

“You’ve got a visitor.”

“A visitor?” She frowned in confusion, obviously not expecting anyone. “Very well, send them in.”

Kara disappeared and barely a minute later Parrish felt himself startling at a sudden loud laugh, and much to his surprise, a little boy bounded into the room, almost falling over in the process. He’d have guessed him to be no older than six years old, and he’d have said he’d come up to his hip in height. He had tanned skin with freckles on his cheeks and nose, and bright green eyes, but the most surprising characteristic was his blue hair.

“Aunt ‘Mione!” The boy shouted.

Hermione looked up from her desk and the largest smile had ever seen graced her face, making her more beautiful than his brain could deal with.

“Teddy!” She said happily, pushing away from her desk and quickly moving around it, meeting the boy halfway as he suddenly barrelled into her, almost knocking her down to the ground.

A smile pulled at his mouth when he heard her laughter as she hugged the little boy against her tightly, and then picking him up and settling him on her hip despite his size.

“Merlin, Teddy, what are you doing here, where’s your Grandmother?” She questioned the grinning child and Parrish felt his head spinning when the child’s hair suddenly turned mahogany and curly to match Hermione’s and his eyes turned chocolate brown, making him look as though he were her son.

“Gran’s outside with Kara,” the boy grinned. “I missed you, Aunt ‘Mione, I haven’t seen you in forever,” he sounded both happy and sad as he spoke.

A look of guilt flittered across her face before she replaced it with a smile.

“I’m very sorry, Teddy, I didn’t mean to stay away for so long, I’ve been very busy at work.”

The little boy nodded. “Gran said you’re looking for a very bad person that’s hurting people. Have you found them yet?”

“Not yet, Sweetie, but we will,” she replied.

“Who’s’ that?” The child pointed towards him and he felt himself shuffle in his seat nervously.

“Oh, this is my friend,” Hermione answered, allowing the boy to slip back to his feet and she took his hand and led him over to the couch, stopping next to him.

“I’m Teddy,” the little boy introduced himself and Parrish felt a smile forming on his face at the way the child held his hand out expectantly.

“It’s nice to meet you, Teddy, I’m Jordan,” he replied, taking the child’s hand and shaking it gently.

He was surprised when the child seemed to eye him in such a way he felt as if he was trying to look into his very soul. He looked at him in such a way that it was almost challenging, and certainly not an expression you’d expect from a young child.

“You talk funny,” he commented, releasing his hand before he stepped closer to Hermione, pressing himself up against her side.

“That’s because I’m from America,” he said with a smile.

“Is that far?”

“Very, very far, Teddy,” Hermione said.

“Like Hogwarts far?”

“Further,” she chuckled when his eyes widened.

“Hermione?” She turned and her face once more held a smile as she stepped away from Teddy and over towards the older woman.

She had dark black hair that was greying, grey coloured eyes and pale skin. She had high cheekbones and a straight nose and her beauty was evident, Parrish was sure she’d been well sought after when she was younger.

“Andy, how are you? What are you doing here?” Hermione said, being pulled into a hug by the older woman who smiled kindly.

“I’m doing much better, thank you, Dear. And today is the 19th,” the woman replied and Hermione frowned in confusion. “You’ve forgotten haven’t you?”

“I’m really sorry, Andy, I’ve had a lot on my plate recently.”

“I understand, Dear, there’s no need to apologise. I must visit St. Mungo’s this afternoon.”

Hermione’s eyes widened. “Right, I said I’d watch Teddy for a few hours, well don’t worry about it, I’ll make sure he doesn’t get into trouble.”

“I know, that’s why I asked you over Harry, the things those two get up to,” she replied with an amused smile and a shake of her head.

“I’m not surprised, they’ve both got Marauders blood,” Hermione chuckled. “Well, not to worry, he’ll be fine, you should get to the hospital, I’ll return him to the house for dinner.”

“Thank you,” the older woman said, before kissing Hermione on the cheek and leaving out the office with a quick hug from her Grandson, she hadn’t even noticed his presence.

“Come on then, Teddy,” Hermione spoke, nodding to her desk.

She moved over to her desk and removed the items that cluttered the surface to make some space. She patted the chair and Teddy ran to the chair, before shrugging off his coat and happily jumping onto the seat, laughing when Hermione altered the height so he could reach the desk. She then removed some parchment from a drawer as well as some coloured crayons and gave them to him. With a ruffle of his hair, she picked up her work and left Teddy at the desk and she moved to sit on the couch beside him.

“That’s the kid you told me about?” He asked quietly, not wanting the little boy to hear.

“Yes, and as you can see, he’s adorable, the idea that anyone could treat him with anything but kindness is sickening to me,” she answered, rearranging the files on her lap.

“And the hair?” He asked cautiously.

She turned to look at him and a smirk pulled at her mouth. “You don’t have to worry; I’m not going to hex you for asking.” He relaxed at her words. “Teddy’s special, whilst his father was a werewolf, his mother had a special, rare ability of her own. She was a Metamorphmagus and they are able to change their appearances at will, as you’ve seen Teddy do.”

“But why was his hair blue?”

She chuckled. “His hair will change colour based on his mood, his mother always had bubblegum pink hair signalling that she was happy, Teddy’s colour for happiness is blue.”

“Aunt ‘Mione?”

They both looked to the little boy sat at her desk.

“Yes, Teddy?”

“Is Gran going to be okay?” He asked quietly.

“Of course she is; why wouldn’t she be?” She frowned.

Teddy frowned and his hair turned from mahogany to black. “She sees the healers a lot.”

A sad look crossed Hermione’s face and he had the urge to take her hand in his to offer her some comfort, but he pushed it away.

“Teddy, your Gran is not as young as she used to be and because of this, the bones in her body are starting to hurt her. The healers give her potions to make her better, that’s why she has to see them. You have nothing to worry about, she’ll be alright.”

He nodded slowly and turned his attention back to his drawing.

“Is she going to be alright?” Parrish asked Hermione gently.

She sighed and ran her hand through her hair. “We hope so,” she muttered. “She’s been having a lot of joint pain, we’re hoping it’s nothing serious, but lately she’s been complaining about her back and shoulders, so we’re not sure.”

She turned away from him and started flicking through the files in front of her and he took the hint that she didn’t wish to discuss it anymore, so he returned to his own task.

They were both interrupted when they heard Teddy slide off the chair and rush over to them, holding a piece of parchment out to each of them.

Parrish briefly caught sight of Hermione’s, it was a drawing of a woman and a little boy and they looked to be playing in a park together. His eyes then feel to his own parchment which he took from the child and he was surprised to see he’d been given a drawing also. This one showed a man, obviously him, fighting off a dragon with a wand and different coloured sparks surrounded him which he supposed were spells he was casting. A second, smaller figure stood in the background and looked to be cheering him on during the fight with the dragon.

“Thank you, Teddy,” he said sincerely, feeling touched that the little boy had thought to draw him a picture also, despite the fact they’d only met less than an hour ago.

“Do you like it?” The little boy asked, shuffling on his feet slightly and looking nervous.

“I love it, it’s one of the best drawings I’ve ever seen,” he replied and Teddy grinned widely in response. He turned his head to see Hermione smiling softly, her eyes darting between him and Teddy.

“Right, Teddy, are you hungry?” She asked, and he nodded. “Then let’s break for lunch, I think we’ve earned it. What would you like?”

“Ice-cream,” he said without missing a beat and Parrish snorted.

“Nice try, Teddy, you can’t have ice-cream for lunch, but I’ll make you a deal, if you eat everything on your plate, we can get ice-cream for dessert. Okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed.

“Good, now get your coat, we’ll go to The Cauldron Cafe in Diagon Alley.”

“We’re going out?” Parrish said in surprise. Since arriving they’d taken their meals in her office or at her apartment, he hadn’t seen any of Wizarding Britain but for the Ministry.

“We’re going out, I think its about time we took some time away from this case and give you the chance to see the Wizarding World a little more. When we return we’ll have fresh eyes and should be able to better concentrate.”

She stood to retrieve his leather jacket and she slipped on her navy blue blazer that matched the tight and form-fitting trousers she wore, along with the white blouse and white heels.

Teddy had slipped on his own coat and he ran over to Hermione and took her hand when she held it out to him, and they left her office together as he closed the door behind them.

“Kara, I’m taking the afternoon off, if you haven’t anything to do you may leave for the day,” she spoke as they reached Kara’s desk.

“Alright, I’ll alert the division heads so they know not to come looking for you and then head out myself. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“You will, have a good day,” Hermione responded.

Before he knew it they’d already reached the atrium and Hermione directed them towards an empty fireplace and they all squeezed in together, with Parrish’s hand wrapped around Hermione’s smaller one and Teddy burying his face against Hermione to protect his eyes.

~000~000~000~

They stepped out into what appeared to be a grimy and dingy looking pub, and he expected Hermione to release his hand but she didn’t, if anything she gripped it tighter and it soon became clear as to why when they stepped out of the pub and into the sunlight.

His eyes widened at his surroundings, seeing hundreds of people milling around the little town, talking, laughing and shopping with shopping bags levitating behind them as they walked. Hermione walked slowly towards their intended destination, allowing him time to see and take in everything from the loud noises, strange smells, bright colours and magical window displays that moved. He’d ask her questions, gesturing towards a particular shop that caught his interest and she’d answer him the best she could. He couldn’t believe some of the things he was seeing.

They arrived at the cafe a lot quicker than he’d have liked to and Hermione pulled him inside and guided Teddy towards a small booth at the back of the cafe, away from everyone and their prying eyes. He sat on the bench opposite Hermione and Teddy and he picked up a menu, his eyebrows rising at some of the food items available for purchase.

In the end, he’d allowed Hermione to order for him, trusting her judgement in that she wouldn’t order him something awful. They ate together with Teddy leading the conversation, asking far too many questions about America than he could keep up with. Once lunch was eaten, they left and Hermione took them to an ice-cream parlour where some of the flavours actually glowed in the dark, and once Teddy had his fill, they slowly walked around Diagon Alley together, stepping into some shops so he could better browse their products and gain a better understanding of just how wizarding folk lived.

Much to Hermione’s amusement, he seemed to be taken with Flourish and Blotts almost as much as she had been when she was younger and she had to drag him out of the shop, promising him that she already had most of the titles that were for sale back at the apartment.

“Aunt ‘Mione, can we see George?”

“Sure, we’ll have a quick pop in and then how about we go to the park?”

Teddy nodded eagerly and Hermione once more slipped her hand into Parrish’s, ensuring to keep hold of him so he wouldn’t get lost. His mouth had dropped when he saw the bright orange and magenta colour scheme of the building, by far the most eye-catching and the loudest of all the businesses in the alley. And the large man sat above the building pulling a rabbit out of a hat had been almost too much for him to take, until Hermione pulled him inside the building and they got swept up by the bustling crowd.

There were too many noises, colours and smells to take in all at once and he’d nearly jumped a foot in the air when a cannonball was sent flying over his head and across the room.

“Oi, Granger, up here!”

The little group all lifted their heads to see a man grinning at them from the balcony and he waved them over to him. It took them some time to fight through the crowd but they were able to make it to the stairs and climb them without hassle.

“Hiya, Teddy,” the redhead grinned, sharing a high-five of greeting with the little boy. “I’ve got something for you.”

“No, you haven’t, George Weasley!” Hermione spoke with her eyes narrowed into slits.

He recognised the name; he was one of the brothers of her friend, Ron, who she’d gone to school with. From what he’d learned, she’d practically been raised by their family.

“Relax, Granger,” he snorted, pulling out what looked to be a wand from his robe pocket and handing it to Teddy. “It’s only a fake wand, I wouldn’t dare give him anything else, between you and Andy you’d kill me and hide the body.”

“There wouldn’t be a body to hide,” Hermione replied and Parrish had to fight back a laugh, not only at her reply but at the way the redhead laughed nervously and took a step back.

“I take it you’re watching him?”

“Yes, Andy’s at the hospital, we came to Diagon Alley for lunch and Teddy wanted to pop in and see you.”

George grinned at Teddy and ruffled his hair. “Who’s the guy, Granger?”

“Oh right, George, this is Jordan, he’s helping me with one of my cases.”

Parrish shook his hand, feeling uncomfortable at the way the redhead eyed him carefully before his eyes swung back and forth between him and Hermione and his mouth twitched.

“I haven’t seen you ‘round the alley before,” he commented.

“I’m not from here,” Parrish replied.

“American, I see,” was all he said before releasing his hand.

“Well, now that you’ve been introduced and Teddy’s gotten his free gift, we better go,” Hermione spoke.

“I’ll see you around, Granger,” George said, giving her a quick hug and sharing another high-five with Teddy before Hermione dragged them out of the building.

She kept hold of both him and Teddy as she made her way back towards the pub they’d arrived at and much to his surprise, when she walked out of the door at the other end of the pub, they stepped out onto a bustling street that was completely normal.

“The Leaky Cauldron’s a gateway between both worlds,” she explained with a shrug, before dragging him and Teddy towards a nearby park, where they sat on a bench and watched as Teddy played.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Page Count: 5

Hermione had taken Teddy home and left him at the park, explaining that the magical barriers around Andromeda’s home wouldn’t allow him anywhere near it and she’d only been gone ten minutes when she returned.

They’d headed back towards The Leaky Cauldron and stepped into the floo, he’d been expecting for them to return to her office, so when he stepped out of the fireplace and into her apartment, he’d been a little surprised.

Hermione seeing the expression on his face laughed at him and headed over to the kitchen, scouring the cupboards to see what she could make for dinner.

“It’s my job to ensure your health and safety, Deputy,” she spoke as he sat on one of the stools at the kitchen island. “And that doesn’t just mean your physical health, but your mental health also. I understand how much Prodigium can be damaging to your mind, you’ve been working exceptionally hard to help me with this case for the last week so it’s about time you took a break away from it, hence the reason we’ve not returned to my office. Tomorrow we’ll both have fresh eyes and a clear mind.”

She turned around to face him, leaning back against the countertop.

“So, Deputy, we’ve had several traditional British foods over the last week. So, why don’t we have something you’d eat at home?”

He raised an eyebrow but stood from the stool and made his way over to the cupboards, gently guiding Hermione out of the way.

“What are you doing?” She asked him confused.

He shrugged. “You want something I’d eat, I’m going to see what I have to work with and make dinner.”

“You cook?” She asked, sounding curious.

“Not really, I can make a few things but I mostly live on take-out or microwave meals,” he answered.

Her eyes travelled his face slowly before she nodded and then moved over to the stools, taking a seat and allowing him space. She watched in amusement as he pottered about the kitchen in search of the pots and pans, the cooking utensils and the plates, but he found them after a short while. He’d occasionally ask her questions and she’d answer, but they were mostly silent.

Not long later a plate was placed in front of her and an amused smile pulled at her mouth.

“Macaroni and cheese?” She questioned.

“It’s my favourite,” he shrugged. “And it’s not just macaroni and cheese, it’s macaroni and cheese with bacon, one of the best combinations in existence.”

She laughed at him but ate her meal, which she did admit to him was really good and he gave her a knowing and proud grin in return. When the dishes had been washed, Hermione sat herself down on the armchair and Parrish on the couch and they watched each other silently.

“You know, I never did get chance to ask that question,” he said

“I suppose you didn’t, but before you do, I wish to ask you something first,” she responded.

“Alright,” he said slowly.

“Can I speak to the hellhound?”

“I’m sorry?” He said in surprise. He’d expected her to ask something that may have been personal or embarrassing, but he’d never expected that to come from her lips.

“Can I speak to the hellhound?” She repeated.

He frowned slightly. “Why?”

“If I’m to help you then I need to have a little chat with him, he’ll be able to give me answers to questions I have that you can’t.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, I can’t control my hellhound and if I bring him forward, I can’t stop him from hurting you. He’s got a mind of his own.”

She smiled at him softly. “Don’t worry about me, Deputy, I’m a big witch and I can handle myself, or have you forgotten that I fought in a war for the better part of a decade?” He shook his head, but the worried crease in his forehead didn’t lessen. “I’m certain he won’t hurt me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t, but there’s only one way to find out and I’d bet my last sickle that I’ll be perfectly fine once you’re in control once more.” He looked conflicted. “Even if something were to happen, I have magical healing available to me and it’s the best in existence. In any case, you’re not a killer.”

She held a hand out to him expectantly and he eyed it before reluctantly standing from the couch and walking over to her, taking her hand in his. She led him over to the fireplace and with a flick of her wand dancing flames began to warm the apartment.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” she spoke, before stepping away from him and moving to the kitchen, preparing herself a cup of tea.

He took a deep breath and quickly removed his t-shirt not wanting to ruin it, and then he knelt down in front of the fire, allowing himself to become entranced by the flames. He felt the heat and fire swarm through him, he felt the haze in his mind beginning to take over. He tore his eyes away from the flames and looked down at his hands, seeing the flames licking at his fingertips and knowing that it was almost over, he closed his eyes and gave in.

Hermione heard the heavy breathing and the crackling of spitting fire and she slowly turned around, her eyes immediately landing on the burning man stood in the middle of her living room. An almost naked man. Hermione’s breath caught in her throat at the sight he made.

His eyes glowing a fiery amber, bright and fierce, his teeth sharp and pointed and his nails were now sharp and claw-like. His clothing had been incinerated, leaving him in only his underwear and showing the thick muscle of his shoulders and torso and the powerful muscle in his thighs. His entire body glowed as hot fire and dancing flames surrounded him with some marks of black soot on his body.

A zing of fiery heat shot through her and went straight to her stomach, causing her to take a deep breath and close her eyes briefly. When they opened, she was immediately caught in his glowing gaze and felt all thoughts leaving her.

“Beautiful, truly beautiful,” she breathed out slowly.

His eyes seemed to darken and he took a small step towards her, his gaze intense and impossible to look away from.

“For the sake of the deputy, I feel I must ask if you mean to harm me,” she spoke, words finally returning to her mind and allowing her to speak.

“I would never hurt you,” the hellhound replied, his voice deep but soft. “You are special.”

She titled her head to the side but didn’t reply. Slowly she left the kitchen, moving closer to him until she stood before him. She was able to feel the heat of the flames and she removed her blazer lest it accidentally catches fire, it was one of her favourite ones after all. After throwing it onto the couch, she turned her body back towards him.

“I have been waiting a long time to see you.”

“I met the deputy all but a week ago,” she raised an eyebrow.

“It feels much longer,” he replied, tilting his head to the side. “I tried to come forward but he is a lot stronger than I realised and he kept me at bay.”

“I wish to help you.”

“I know, he might not be aware of it, but I am aware of everything that he hears and sees, we are one.”

“Not quite,” she replied. “And that is what I wish to help you with.”

“It is not me, it’s him, he is reluctant. We will be at our strongest and we can only achieve that with your help.” He took another step, bringing them closer together and putting barely any space between them. “You are different, you are like me.”

“Not exactly.”

He titled his head to the side and his mouth twitched into a smile before his fangs retreated and his claws did the same. She gasped in surprise when he closed the distance between them, his chest pressing against hers and the flames surrounding him licking at her skin, but it didn’t hurt her. The flames, they were hot and entrancing, they caressed her skin softly, lovingly, and fire coursed through her body until she took a shaky breath.

Hands came up to the back of her neck, holding her gently and his thumbs ran along her jaw softly, sending sparks of heat through her. Her hands came up to wrap around his wrists, not the slightest bit worried about being burned by him.

He wouldn’t hurt her, he couldn’t.

She titled her head upwards, getting caught in his fiery gaze.

“I knew from the moment we laid eyes on you that you were different.” He spoke, his voice enchanting and calming and he lowered his head, putting them only inches away from their noses touching. “I see you for what you truly are. I see your power, I see your fire. You don’t have to hide it from me. Show me, show me who you really are.”

Hermione’s breath caught before she closed her eyes, and slowly they fluttered open, revealing a fiery, glowing amber that matched his own. Her eyes were wide and large and bright, and fire danced in them.

“You are beautiful,” he said reverently. “You are beautiful and you are mine.”

She opened her mouth to respond but words never came as soft, hot lips were suddenly on her own. It was just a simple press of lips but Hermione’s insides burned with need and heat and fire. She felt alive in a way she never had before.

She opened her eyes -not realising they’d closed in the first place- and was caught by his heated gaze watching her intently.

“You are mine and have been since we first laid eyes on you.”

She opened her mouth to respond but didn’t have the chance to.

“You. Are. Mine.” He punctuated each word slowly, powerfully. “And we do not like you flirting with Norton. It makes us angry, it hurts us.”

She frowned and slowly nodded. “I don’t particularly understand what is happening, but it if hurts you, I’ll stop.”

“I must go, he is becoming restless. I will whisper to him, convince him to accept your help. He will do so and soon he will understand and he will know what you are to us.”

“I don’t even understand it myself,” she replied.

“You will.”

He lowered his head once more to press his hot lips against hers and she felt a sigh of content leave her. When his hands came away from her face, she released her hold on him and he stepped back, feeling the heat of him no longer surrounding her comfortingly, and she brought her fingers up to her mouth, feeling them still tingling slightly.

His mouth twitched at the gesture. “Do not worry, my fierce Goddess, we will see each other again. I will always be with you, protecting you from harm.”

“And who will protect you?” She asked.

“You protect my human, and that is protecting me. It seems we are the protectors of each other.”

Hermione watched as his eyes closed and the fire around him began to die down. She turned and headed back to the kitchen, briefly catching sight of the black soot marks on her clothing as well as being made aware of the fact that he’d burned some holes into her blouse and trousers, but seeing as only a little of her skin was viewable and her modesty was still intact, it didn’t bother her.

She continued to make herself a cup of tea and some coffee for Parrish and when done, she looked over her shoulder at the hellhound. The flames had now disappeared and the transformation was almost complete so she flicked her wand at him, dressing him in his discarded t-shirt and another pair of jeans so he wouldn’t feel embarrassed about being partially naked in front of her. 

She leaned against the counter, waiting for him to notice her presence.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Page Count: 8

He felt fabric being wrapped around him and when he opened his eyes and looked down at himself, it was to see him once more wearing his t-shirt but a different pair of jeans than before.

He lifted his eyes to survey his surroundings, glad to see that there appeared to be no damage and nothing had caught fire. Hearing movement, he turned his head slightly towards the kitchen, his eyes widening when he caught sight of Hermione. She looked the same except for her having marks of black soot along her jaw and some on her neck. She had soot on her clothing, but holes looked to have been burnt into her blouse and trousers, but there was still more than enough fabric to keep her modesty.

She slowly approached him with two mugs in her hand and she smiled at him softly.

“He didn’t hurt you?” He questioned, sounding surprised even to his own ears.

“No, he didn’t hurt me,” she confirmed. “Actually, he was really sweet.”

He was sure he imagined the blush in her cheeks.

“He was?” He replied, feeling both his eyebrows raising and almost disappearing into his hairline.

“Yes, he was. He said he would never hurt me. We had a little chat and I believe we understand each other, well, mostly, some of what he said was a little jarring and it’s still sinking in.”

He watched her carefully as she placed the mugs on the coffee table and then took a seat on the couch, kicking off her shoes and pulling her legs up to rest against the cushions. He moved over to the couch, sitting himself down on the opposite side, a single cushion being the only thing that separated them.

“So, Deputy, a deal’s a deal, what do you wish to ask me?”

He picked up his mug and settled back against the comfortable couch, turning his body to better face her, and she picked up her own mug and turned to face him, too.

“I’ve noticed some things,” he started, and she gave him a nod of encouragement to keep going. “I don’t know how to explain it but you’re different. And I don’t just mean because of your magic, I can feel the difference in your magic to other witches and wizards.”

She bit her lip and tilted her head to the side and he had to remind himself to remain focused.

“The others feel like an electrical current, it buzzes and tingles, but you, you feel like fire. Like heat and flames and crackling sparks.” He frowned slightly. “And I’ve noticed that people seem to be not quite afraid of you, but cautious. And I’ve heard mention of ‘your fire’ several times by others. You’re hot, too.”

“Thank you, Deputy,” she replied amused, sending him a wink.

“That’s not what I meant,” his cheeks flushed and she chuckled at him.

“I know, but I couldn’t resist. I’m sorry; I’ll keep myself in check. Please continue.”

He cleared his throat and shuffled slightly. “Your body temperature is hotter than a regular human’s, it’s not quite as high as my own, but I noticed it. And on the flight during takeoff, your temperature increased and you left soot marks from your hands, as you did on the desk in your office. And I’ve seen your eyes change colour; I’ve seen them flash amber when you’re angry. So, what I wanted to ask you is, what are you? Why are you different?”

She sipped at her tea, he’d noticed over the time he’d spent with her that she preferred coffee in the morning and during the day, but in the evening she much preferred tea. She nibbled at her lip in thought, he assumed she was deciding whether or not she should tell him the truth or lie to him.

“Your hellhound has noticed also,” she spoke, before taking another sip from her mug. “He told me and whilst he may not know why I’m different, he knows that I’m similar to you.”

“Meaning?” He asked curiously.

“Meaning, that whilst you are the last of your kind, I am very much the first of mine. There has never before been anything seen quite like me, and for that reason, there is only three people in existence that know of my secret. If it should get out, I suspect I will befall the same fate the hellhounds did.”

He leaned closer to her, her words not only worrying him but also intriguing him. Just what was she hiding?

“I won’t tell anyone.”

“I know you won’t,” she spoke, giving him a knowing smile he didn’t understand. She took a deep breath and shuffled to get herself more comfortable. “Do you know what a phoenix is?”

“A mythical bird that is said to arise from its ashes,” he answered.

“That’s the gist of it, but they’re not mythical, they’re real.”

He supposed the news shouldn’t have surprised him after learning about giants and dragons and trolls, but it did.

“But they have other abilities, too. Not only do they have incredibly long life-spans, being almost immortal, they have the strength that allows them to carry at least four fully grown humans at one time. They can teleport too, and are able to take a human with them. Their tears have healing capabilities that are able to remove most poisonous substances from the body and seal up open wounds. They have the gift of song, and it’s known as The Phoenix’s Lament. The song is beautiful and sad and fills you with warmth; it fills those that are pure of heart with strength and courage and it strikes those that are impure of heart with fear.”

“You’ve heard it before?” He questioned, picking up on the tone of knowing in her voice.

“Yes, I’ve heard it before,” she confirmed quietly, taking another sip from her mug. “Phoenixes are rarely seen near human civilisation, they live in the wild and they are fiercely loyal creatures and for one to befriend a human is almost unheard of. Albus Dumbledore had a phoenix as a familiar and I suppose that says a lot about his character. Despite his manipulative ways, despite him sending children to war ill-equipped and giving them a mission they had absolutely no idea how to complete, his heart was in the right place and he just wished for the war to be over like the rest of us. When he died it tore the connection he had to his Phoenix, Fawkes, and when that happened, Fawkes was so distraught that he grew ill and he started fading, and this would be for the last time, there would be no regeneration for him. He disappeared after Dumbledore’s funeral and no one could find him, we were all worried about him but there was nothing we could do,” she explained, a sad tone to her voice.

She downed the last of her tea and placed the empty mug on the coffee table before getting comfortable once more.

“The time of the final battle came and we spent close to twenty-four hours battling for our freedom, I couldn’t believe we did it. Despite being outnumbered, despite their forces being older and more knowledgeable than us, we’d won. The battles wound down fairly quickly once the other side realised they’d lost and while some stayed to fight to the death, others fled and became fugitives. I’d been checking the bodies, ensuring that there was no one still alive that needed medical assistance,” she spoke, a haunted look crossing her face and he had the urge to comfort her, to protect her from her difficult past.

“Most were inside the castle, collecting the bodies, helping to treat the injured and being treated themselves. The castle grounds were quiet and there were few of us checking the bodies. I’d just discovered the body of a young witch, she’d gotten lost on the way to the dungeons were the underage students where being held for their protection. She’d been caught in the crossfire and there was so much blood nothing would’ve saved her even if we’d gotten to her in time. In that moment I broke down, all the stress and fear and pain and suffering I’d felt over the years suddenly crashing down on me, I couldn’t breathe and I was no longer aware of my surroundings. I was distracted and I didn’t notice that someone had crept out of the Forbidden Forest and snuck up behind me.”

“The curse struck me and there was nothing I could do to defend myself. It wasn’t a particularly strong one but it hurt like hell and I fell to the ground, my blood soaking through my clothing and onto the grass.”

Tears fell down her face and she wiped them away as if not wanting him to see them, as if she was ashamed of them, ashamed of showing weakness in front of him. With his heart feeling as though it were being smashed into a thousand pieces and his hellhound’s restlessness, he shifted closer to her so her knees brushed against his thigh and he took her hand in his, giving her a gentle squeeze. He could feel the temperature of her hand slowly rising and she didn’t pull away from him, which he took as a good sign.

“Despite the pain and the spots in my vision, I found the strength to turn over and three masked figures came into my sight. I didn’t know who they were, nothing about them seemed familiar but it was clear to me they were Death Eaters and they planned on not only killing me but making sure that I suffered first. Everyone knew who I was, everyone knew that the only reason Harry had survived for so long was that I made sure he did. He was The Chosen One, but I was The Brightest Witch of my Age that kept him alive and safe, they hated me as much as they hated him. Through my protection of Harry, their leader had found his downfall.”

“In times of great stress and peril, magic can act out instinctively and that’s what mine did. My magic protected me, it threw the three men away from me and gave me enough time to stumble to my feet and grab my wand. I tried to get away and signal for help but I wasn’t fast enough and a duel broke out, them against me. I fought the best I could but they overpowered me and my wand was ripped out of my grasp and I was defenceless with three wands trained on me. I knew what was coming and I closed my eyes, accepting my fate and just wishing that they’d get it over with.”

His hand tightened around hers and she winced slightly so he loosened his grip, but barely.

“I heard the words of The Killing Curse and I saw the three beams of neon green light from behind my eyelids. I expected to die, only I didn’t. There was this loud screeching sound and when I opened my eyes, I saw Fawkes flying towards me, only he didn’t stop like I expected him to. He kept on flying and he ploughed straight into me, knocking me off my feet. The last thing I heard was an explosion and fire burst in front of my eyes.”

“When I woke up I was naked and surrounded by fire, and Headmistress McGonagall was kneeling beside me, looking like she might faint. The three Death Eaters, they were dead, their bodies scattered about and burning to ash. Fawkes was nowhere to be seen except for a few of his feathers that were on the ground beside me.”

“What happened?” He asked quietly.

She wiped away her tears once more and sniffled. “He saved my life,” she whispered. “I was ready to die, I was only eighteen but I had accepted my fate. I hadn’t expected to live through the war and so I wasn’t afraid of death, but he saved me. When McGonagall gained her bearings, she summoned a blanket and wrapped me up before taking me to the hospital wing, we never told anyone what happened despite the odd circumstances that surrounded me. Once the castle had quieted down and everyone was resting she visited me and explained to me what had happened. She’d been patrolling the grounds and witnessed the duel and she came to help, only she didn’t have to. She said that Fawkes had slammed into me and then disappeared in an explosion of bright fire, killing the Death Eaters. Luckily she’d been further away so she hadn’t been hurt. Fawkes couldn’t be found, and we didn’t know why at the time, but over the weeks, strange things started happening to me and soon it became clear. We couldn’t find him because he was no longer here, he was somewhere else.”

“And where was he?”

She brought her free hand up and pressed it against her chest in-between her breasts.

“He’s inside of me.” His eyebrows rose high in surprise. “We don’t know how and we didn’t even think it was possible, but when he collided with me, his life force passed into me. The Killing Curse struck me the same time Fawkes did.” He frowned in confusion. “I died, Jordan,” she said quietly, not only surprising him with her words but also by the fact she’d called him by his name, she’d never done that before.

“I was dead, but when Fawkes passed into me, I was re-born much like a phoenix. And since that day I’ve had fire in me, it’s the reason behind the strange things you’ve witnessed. We didn’t even know this was possible and it’s never been seen before, never in the history of magic and magic’s been around for over a millennia. What I am, I’m the first of my kind and probably the last.”

He sat back slightly but didn’t release her hand as he allowed his mind to catch up with what she had told him, allowing it to process the information and for it to sink in.

“Well, shit!” He cursed and he hardly ever did, which just went to show his surprise.

Hermione laughed at him, breaking some of the tension in the room and he felt a smile pull at his mouth in response.

“That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”

She laughed once more and shook her head before wiping away the last of her tears. “Yes, I’m not surprised, some days I don’t even believe it myself.”

“Do you have any of the abilities Fawkes did?”

“I’m a little stronger than I once was, but you would hardly notice it. I don’t have accelerated healing and as far as I’m aware, I don’t have the ability to heal others either. Harry’s been injured several times due to his job and other than my basic knowledge of Healing Charms, I couldn’t do much for him and he had to go to St. Mungo’s hospital. And as far as I’m aware, I don’t have the song of the phoenix either. As you know, my body runs at a higher temperature than normal and it tends to get hotter when I’m angry or frightened, and my eyes change colour for the same reason.”

“Do you have immortality?” He asked cautiously.

“Maybe,” she answered. “We know I died and Fawkes brought me back, but I was working a case a few years back and I was attacked by a werewolf. The bite should’ve killed me or changed me, but it didn’t. The next full moon I was still me, just a witch. When I was found my body was cold and lifeless but the healers didn’t know if that was because I was dead or if it is was due to the freezing temperature in the forest and that I’d fallen into a coma, at any rate, by the time I’d gotten to the hospital I was awake.”

“But what do you think?”

She looked away from him and down at her hand clasped in his, feeling her mouth twitch, wondering if it was his doing or the hellhound’s.

“I think I died,” she whispered. “I don’t remember anything that happened except for my waking up and being in hospital, so if I do have immortality, I’ll be forced to watch everyone I love die, I’ll be forced to watch them move on without me and leave me behind.”

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

“Much like me,” he muttered. “We’re the same.”

“Different but the same,” she agreed quietly. “Now you know my secret, was it what you were expecting?”

“No,” he laughed, “I thought you were going to say it was due to a potion or spell you used.”

She chuckled and shook her head. “If only, Deputy.”

“Who knows about you?”

“Headmistress McGonagall as she witnessed it, I told Kingsley as he’s a very knowledgeable man and if anyone knew of what had happened to me it would be him, and finally Harry. He’s not only my best friend but my little brother, we’ve been through so much together and during the war we only had each other to rely on since Ronald left us. For a while, after the war we struggled to function without each other, but once Harry married Ginny and they had their first child, he was doing much better and I had to get on with things and learn to handle things myself. I wasn’t dependent on him but I did need him in a way that I needed his support, much like he needed mine. Harry began to notice my strange behaviour and we brought him in on the secret, I wouldn’t have been able to keep it from him anyway. He was always able to see straight through me in a way no one else was.”

“You never told Ron?”

“No, he’s rubbish at keeping secrets, particular when he’s angry. He always finds a reason to be mad at me and when he does, it’s not pretty. I couldn’t risk telling him something so important, and I swore Harry to secrecy. He usually tells Ron everything but once he understood the circumstances, he agreed it wouldn’t be safe to tell Ron.”

“No one else knows?”

“No, people are not as observant these days, now that the war is over they have no need to be. Everyone knows I have a temper, I was famous for it well before Fawkes saved me, and that’s why they say I have fire. For my temper and my stubbornness and my passion to ensure that all creatures and beings have equal rights, which is why I went straight into the RCMC Department after the war. People expected me to return to school and graduate as I was known for my academic achievements and swottish tendencies, but I couldn’t do it. It wasn’t the same after what I’d witnessed. I took my final exams outside of school at The Ministry and once I received my results, I’d already been offered a job in the Beings Division. A year after that I was transferred to the Spirits Division, then I spent six months working in The Department of Mysteries, helping them with something I’m sworn to secrecy not to talk about.” He raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt. “I was then transferred to the Beasts Division and six months later, not long after my twenty-first birthday, I was promoted to Department Head, despite not actually being a division head myself, which is why Martin hates me so much. But it wasn’t my fault, Kingsley gave the division heads a list of candidates for the job, as well as the Wizengamot, and they were asked to vote for their ideal candidate. I believe it was a landslide decision by the Wizengamot and I received five votes out of eight from the RCMC Department. The next day I was given my own office and ever since I’ve spent every day proving that I’m good at my job.”

“You’ve had an eventful life,” he commented.

She hummed in response and tilted her head back against the couch, her eyes seeming to flutter tiredly.

“So, seeing as we’ve never had this much time on our hands and we’re not working the case, what do you do for fun?”

“Read,” she answered without thought.

“No, seriously, what do you do?”

“Read,” she repeated and he snorted at her. “Give me a minute,” she said, removing her hand from his –they hadn’t even realised he still had hold of it- and she stood and disappeared down the corridor, returning minutes later with something in her hand.

She flicked her wand and a bottle of orange liquid and two small glasses levitated from the kitchen and landed on the coffee table and she took her seat once more. Removing the lid from the bottle, she poured a small amount into both glasses and then handed one to him.

“Fire whiskey,” she explained, taking a sip from her own glass and wincing slightly at the burn.

He raised an eyebrow before taking a swig from his own glass, coughing in surprise as it burned all the way down his throat and she laughed at him.

“Hell, that’s got a kick to it,” he breathed out.

She snorted at him. “Some hellhound you are, you can’t even take the fire of something we drink on a regular basis.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly before bringing the glass back up to his lips and downing the rest of the burning liquid, forcing himself not to wince.

“That’s more like it,” she smirked, downing her own and then pouring them both another.

She picked up the item from beside her and that’s when he noticed it was a deck of cards, which she removed from the box and began shuffling meticulously.

“Let’s see if you know how to play,” she commented. “And no cheating.”

He scoffed. “As if I need to cheat to beat you.”

“That’s fighting talk, Deputy, I guess we’ll see if you’re right.”

He felt a smirk of his own pulling at his mouth as he watched her deal out the cards for poker. He had a feeling it was going to be a long night.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Page Count: 7

Another week had passed and they had still yet to find anything remotely useful towards the case, they’d resorted to starting at the beginning, once more going over reports for the second and third time, just to make sure they hadn’t missed anything the first time. They both knew it was useless but they had no other options available to them.

Over the last week, Parrish had noticed some changes in Hermione and it was her behaviour towards him that stood out the most. It was subtle, it would barely even be noticeable to someone else, but he was a very observant person and he noticed everything.

She was more attentive towards him, making sure he was never hungry or thirsty, when he was getting frustrated with the case, she made him take a break, she’d take him out of the office and they’d go for a stroll around Diagon Alley and stop at a cafe for a coffee, before returning to the office.

She’d taken to sitting next to him more often than she sat at her own desk, her excuse being that her neck and back were hurting from sitting up straight for too long, where she could lounge back on the couch if she wanted to.

She seemed to have taken an interest in his life back in America, she had done so before, but now it was more often she’d ask him questions about his life, usually to distract him from the headache he had forming from reading through the reports again.

But the most noticeable change he’d witnessed the morning after he’d learned her secret. When Camden had arrived throwing insults at her and he’d been taken away by security, Norton had flirted with her as usual and much to his surprise, rather than her flirting back as she normally would, she’d flat out denied his attempts to ask her on her date, there was no smile, twinkle in her eye or softness about it.

He just assumed she was in a bit of a mood and hadn’t slept well the night before; after all, they’d both woken up on the couch slumped over with her head on his shoulder and his head tilted and resting against the top of hers, and they’d both woken with a headache from the amount of fire whiskey they’d drank. It wasn’t a stretch that she’d be a bit grouchy, but then it had happened again. The next morning she hadn’t flirted with Norton and she’d denied him again, and it continued day after day, and that brought them to now.

Camden arrived later than he usually did and Parrish had learned to control his dislike of the old man, no longer needing to fight off the hellhound as they’d both come to realise that the old man was harmless. He’d seen Hermione defend herself against him several times, all with a bored look on her face, a lazy flick of her wand and leaning back into her chair looking relaxed and unthreatened.

They’d just finished lunch and had barely turned their attention back to the reports in front of them, when the old man charged into the room, hurling insults that Hermione only responded to with indifference, calmness and sometimes with a witty comment that had him biting his lip to stop himself from laughing. He couldn’t deny she wasn’t fast on her feet. She was one of the wittiest people he’d ever met, he’d put her on par with Stiles and no one could out-wit or out-talk that boy.

Not five minutes after Camden arrived, security arrived and he’d been restrained and escorted out of Hermione’s office, this time without a single spell being thrown her way which he thought was progress. As usual, Norton stayed behind, not yet having given up on his attempts to get Hermione to go on a date with him. Despite him disliking the man, and his hellhound certainly didn’t like him either, he couldn’t help feel a little admiration for the man’s tenacity, and he couldn’t help wonder what it was that gave the blonde the impression that Hermione would give in to him if he just kept asking. Sooner or later he could see the blonde being on the receiving end of Hermione’s wand. 

“Well if it isn’t the prettiest trollop in Britain,” Norton spoke leaning against the door frame. Parrish turned his eyes to Hermione, waiting for her response.

She was diligently looking down at the paperwork on her desk, he knew she wasn’t looking over a report, earlier that morning one of the division heads had dropped off something they needed her approval on and it had kept her attention for the last hour.

“Thank you, Norton, but you better get yourself back to your department, I’ve heard there’s been a raid on a warehouse suspected of housing a few fugitive Death Eaters and their new recruits, they’re going to need all hands on deck.”

“Alright, I can’t take it anymore, what’s gotten your wand in a knot? You’ve been off with me for days now.”

“I told you, Norton, I don’t see our relationship going further than friendship and some harmless flirting. You’ll get burned and I don’t wish to hurt you.”

“Something’s happened, you’re different,” he scowled. “I’m not sure I like it.”

“I don’t need your permission to experience change in my life,” she replied coolly.

Norton’s eyes narrowed and they darted over to him sitting on the couch and he quickly put his attention on the report he held in his hand, pretending to be hard at work and not paying attention to anything but the papers in front him.

“You won’t burn me; you’re not nearly as frightening as you think you are.”

Hermione looked up from her desk and Parrish darted his eyes to her and the way a thoughtful frowned appeared on her face.

“Norton, wait for me outside, and close the door after you leave,” she instructed.

A slow, victorious smile crept on to his face and he turned around and left the office, shutting the door after him.

Parrish put the report on the coffee table and looked to Hermione when he heard her standing from her chair and her footsteps approaching him. Much to his confusion, she perched herself on the edge of the coffee table right in front of him, her knees brushing his own and she leaned closer to him, catching him in her gaze. He was helpless to look away from her beautiful eyes.

“I need to speak with the hellhound.”

“What? Why?” He frowned in confusion.

“Norton’s not going to give up, the reason he wants me is that I’ve been turning him down for years. He wants what he can’t have. I need to speak with the hellhound as I’m going to do something I don’t think he’s going to like and I wish to warn him first. You don’t have to go full hellhound, I just need you to bring him forward so I may speak with him and you don’t need a flame for that.”

“I don’t?”

“No, you don’t.” She held her hands out to him and his eyes fell down to them before he wrapped his larger hands around her smaller ones, feeling them beginning to heat up under his touch. “Just close your eyes for me and I’ll guide you through it.”

He took a deep breath and then slowly closed his eyes, feeling Hermione give his hands a squeeze of encouragement.

“I want you to block out all sounds except for any I make. Focus on my voice, on the calmness it offers you. Listen to my words, listen to my heartbeat, listen to my breathing. It’s steady and controlled, mimic my breathing and slow down your own to match mine. Good,” she praised him. “Now, clear your mind of all thoughts but for one, think of your hellhound and only your hellhound. Tell him what you wish, tell him you only wish for him to listen to me, tell him that there is no danger and we are safe, we don’t need his protection. We only need him to listen.” She felt his hands grip her tighter. “Is he responding to you, has he agreed? If he has, open your eyes.”

It was a few moments before his eyes slowly opened, revealing the fiery amber of the hellhound and a smile pulled at her mouth at the sight. His hands tightened around hers and she looked down at them and then back to his eyes.

“Can you hear me?” She asked.

“Yes, my Goddess, I can,” he spoke, his voice deep and soft, the sign that it was the hellhound and not the deputy. “I have missed you.”

“I have barely left your line of sight,” she replied.

“It is different, we are not yet one, he feels things I cannot. He can feel your presence but I cannot, he can feel your touch, it is barely noticeable to me.”

“I’ll work with him as soon as I can,” she promised.

“You already are, he spoke to me, he brought me forward without the need for fire. That is more progress than I could have expected. It will not be long before we are one.”

“I’ll make sure it happens,” she said. “Now, I wish to speak to you regarding Norton.”

“He is stupid,” he commented.

Hermione snorted at him. “He’s not stupid, he just wants what he can’t have and that means he wants me. I’m going to do something you’re not going to like but it’s necessary.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?” She asked with a guilty tone to her voice, and he picked up on it, his eyes narrowing.

“No,”

“Yes, it has to be done. I need to show him that I’ll burn him, only then will he leave me alone. I’ll be gone no more than ten minutes and I’ll come straight back.”

“You are mine,” he said, a protective and possessive look entering his amber orbs. “I will rid him of your life for you.”

“That’s sweet of you, but we’re trying to keep you a secret. You are the last of your kind, you must be protected; I won’t allow any harm to come to you. You’re special, a one of a kind,” she said softly. “I don’t like the thought of seeing you hurt. And you are not a murderer. I have to do this.”

“I don’t like it.”

“I didn’t think you would, which is why I thought it best to tell you of my intentions first. Once this is done, he won’t bother me again.”

His hands released hers in favour of coming up to the back of her neck, his thumbs running over her jaw softly, much like he’d done the previous week. Her eyes fluttered closed at the soft caress and the heat that surrounded her.

His hot lips pressed to hers in a gentle kiss and heat and fire travelled straight to her stomach and a little sigh left her as he pulled back from her. She opened her eyes to be caught by his heated gaze.

“I still don’t like it,” he said. “But I will trust you, my little warrior Goddess.”

“Thank you, now, do you mind giving me back the deputy?”

“I’ll see you again,” he promised, before removing his hands from her neck and moving to take a hold of her hands once more.

His eyes closed and his breathing slowed to match hers, he titled his head slightly, as if listening for something and a smile pulled at his mouth. A few moments later his eyes opened once more to show light brown, only she noticed a single fleck of amber that hadn’t been there before and a smile pulled at her mouth.

“Did it work?” he asked.

“It did, it worked,” she confirmed. “And you’ve just taken your first step in becoming one with your hellhound. Your eyes have changed; you’ve got a fleck of amber in them that wasn’t there before.” Before he could question her she released his hands and stood up. “I better deal with Norton, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Was he happy?” He asked, referring to his hellhound.

“Not really, but we’ve sorted it,” she replied as she headed for the door and stepped out of her office, closing the door behind her so no one would disturb him in her absence.

Norton immediately came into her sight, leaning against the wall and his mouth pulled into a smirk when he saw her.

“Follow me,” she instructed, before walking away and not giving him the chance to reply.

She walked past Kara’s empty desk as Hermione had given her the afternoon off to go to St. Mungo’s with her husband, and she made her way past the many cubicles, nodding in greeting to those that noticed her presence, before stopping and waiting for the elevator to arrive.

Norton tried to speak several times but she shushed him until he got the message, and once the doors dinged open, they stepped into the elevator which was thankfully empty. Hermione only let it travel two floors before she pressed the emergency stop button, preventing anyone else from using it.

Norton eyed her curiously as she turned to face him, her expression serious and no sign of teasing.

“You think you can handle me?” She asked him.

“I don’t doubt it,” he replied cockily, crossing his arms over his chest and smirking at her.

“We’ll see,” she muttered.

She lunged forward, twisting her hands into his Auror robes and pulling him closer to her. His eyes widened in surprise when she leaned up and without warning, pressed her mouth against his. He made a noise of surprise as she pushed him up against the wall, but his arms wrapped around her, pulling her further against him. She allowed one hand to move up his body until it sunk into his hair at the nape of his neck, tugging on it hard and she bit at his lip, he winced against the pain before she pulled a groan from him when she swiped her tongue over the bite to soothe it.

His mouth parted, allowing her to flick her tongue against his own, but she pulled back from him slightly. He tried to mutter something but her mouth covered his once more, this time she didn’t control herself and she gripped his hair tighter and the other hand curled around the back of his neck. She knew her body temperature was rising and soon, Norton would notice and if he didn’t pull away from her he would get burned.

She felt him stiffen but he didn’t release her from his hold, so she nipped at his lip again and allowed her body temperature to climb a little higher and soon enough, a pained hissed tore from him and he pulled back from her, staring at her with wide eyes and heavy breathing, bringing his hand up to the back of his neck and wincing against the sting when he touched the hot skin. She hadn’t burned him enough to actually hurt him, it would sting for a little while but otherwise, it wouldn’t leave a mark.

“I told you, Norton, I’ll burn you. That’s nothing compared to what may have happened. I don’t want to hurt you. You don’t want anything from me other than a quick shag, you should know I’m not that type of witch despite what Camden may say about me. You should find yourself another witch and shag her silly until neither of you can walk, you’ll soon forget about me.”

She turned away from him and reactivated the elevator, directing it back up to her department. She stood with her arms crossed and as far away from him as she could get, as he stared at her in the silence.

“It’s that guy, isn’t it? The one in your office?” He said.

“No, it’s not.”

“Bullshit! You never had a problem with me before, and all of sudden now that he’s here, you’ve changed.”

“It’s got nothing to do with him,” she lied, but her voice was steady and calm so you wouldn’t know she was lying. “I’ve just grown tired of the game, I told you I didn’t mind a little harmless flirting, but you’ve been pushing the boundaries lately and I can’t take it any longer. As much as I welcome the little distraction you bring, you’re still a distraction. You can’t handle me as I’ve just proved. You’ll only get hurt.”

The elevator dinged and opened on to her department, and without another word, she strode out and back to her office, shutting the door behind her after she entered. 

“Everything taken care of?” Parrish asked.

She sighed and leaned back against the door, tipping her head back and looking up at the ceiling.

“Everything is taken care of, he won’t bother me again and if he does, I’ll hex him.”

He snorted at her as she walked across the room and flopped down onto the couch beside him.

“I suppose this is wishful thinking, but have you found anything?”

“No,” he replied and she sighed and brought both hands up to rub at her temples.

“Between Prodigium, Camden and Norton, this day is turning out to be awful,” she muttered. “What’s next, someone barging into my office saying there’s been a strike for workplace benefits?”

He chuckled at her. “I hope not, I can’t imagine that being pretty.”

“It’s not, it happened two years ago and it took two months to get everything back to normal,” she sighed.

“Well, I’ve been thinking.” She hummed in response, telling him to continue. “I’ve read most of these reports twice, some of them more, I’ve gone over every witness account and piece of evidence there is, and I was looking at the map,” they both looked over their shoulders at the large map on the wall. “I was thinking, you can’t track this creature, but I was able to track The Beast, and this creature is similar so maybe I can track it.”

“Except we don’t have anything for you to use to track it with. We don’t have anything with its scent or DNA, and we’ve got no pattern as it seems to be choosing its locations and victims at random,” she pointed out.

“Right, but maybe if I visited the sites of the killings I could pick up on something you missed, maybe a scent or a feeling, and it could lead us to the creature.”

She bit her lip and frowned thoughtfully. “I hadn’t thought of that. That’s actually a really good idea,” she nodded. “I’ll speak to Kingsley and have him get us a temporary pass on port keying. He could get it to us by the end of the day and I’ll program the co-ordinates into the port keys. We can start in the morning. Well done, Deputy,” she praised, patting him on the knee and then standing to move to her desk, missing his smug smile.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Page Count: 6

“I don’t understand, there’s nothing, absolutely nothing,” Parrish frowned, before sighing and leaning back against a tree.

Four days had passed and they’d visited almost every site a killing had taken place, and he’d been unable to detect anything. It was almost as if no killings had occurred at all, but they knew different. In the last four days, he’d magically travelled throughout Europe with Hermione and it had taken him two days to get used to port keying, which he swore was invented by the devil himself giving how horrendous it was.

There were twenty-five kill sites in total spread out through Europe and two of them had been in England, one in Surrey and another in Yorkshire. Given they were the closer kill sites, they’d visited them first as Hermione was able to apparate due to their shorter distance from London. They then port keyed to Glasgow as that was where the first killings had been reported. From then on, they went to Paris and searched the two towns where killings had occurred and then moved to Italy, where there had been three separate incidences, and there’d been two in Rome, too. The next day they went to Poland which they followed with Austria and Denmark, and still, they’d found nothing. Before returning to England for the night, they’d checked out Switzerland and nothing had come of that either.

On the third day, they tried Ukraine, Belarus and Bulgaria and they’d spent longer than they usually would in Bulgaria. Due to the hotter temperature, they’d been forced to break every once in a while and take shade from the sun, but despite that, nothing had been useful. They’d visited countless countries and travelled across Europe, he only wished it was under better circumstances and that he had some time to explore the countries as a regular tourist, but he had a job to do.

The fourth day brought them to now, they’d visited Dublin, Wales and the towns the killings had taken place at and despite it still being a fairly new crime scene, he hadn’t been able to pick anything up. It was nearing evening and soon it would begin to get dark, but there was only one site left to visit before they’d finished and they both agreed there was no point in leaving it until the next day, with the luck they’d been having they’d likely find nothing of use.

Over the last few days, six more victims had been found in Cork, Ireland at Gougane Barra Forest, which was a known area for hikers, fishermen and campers, and with the weather warming up for Summer, there was plenty of people in danger.

The victims had been discovered a day after being killed and they’d immediately shut access to the forest down, ensuring no one else got in and that others had gotten out safely. With the last killing being only a few days ago, it was the freshest killing site they had. 

They’d spent the last two hours hiking through the forest trying to find the kill site as the co-ordinates Hermione had been given to put into the port key had been inaccurate. It was nearly dark, she was hungry and tired and it was getting really cold. Despite her above average body temperature and the fire within her, even she felt the cold and she was bloody freezing!

Her face was cold, she couldn’t feel her nose or her toes and her hands were going numb so she stuffed them into the pockets of the winter coat she’d transfigured from her jacket, she’d offered to do the same for Parrish but he’d declined, saying he didn’t feel the cold. Well, she bloody well did and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could take it!

“I wasn’t expecting anything else,” she responded, ducking her head down so her ears were protected from the cold by the collar of her coat.

He turned his head towards her and a chuckle fell from him at the sight she made; all but curled in on herself, wearing a thick winter coat with fur on the collars and wrists and her hands buried in her pockets as she shivered.

“Cold?” He questioned.

“No, I’m sweltering hot, I’m just entertaining the idea of stripping and going for a quick swim in the lake, would you care to join me?” She snarked and he chuckled. “Of course I’m cold, it’s bloody freezing! I can’t feel my nose, I think my toes are going to fall off and my hands will soon follow,” she whined.

He shook his head in amusement and made his way over to her, the only protection he had from the cold being his leather jacket and she glared at him for that.

“It’s not my fault,” he held his hands up in surrender.

She glared at him all the more for his comment. He stopped in front of her and held his hands out to her, she reluctantly removed her hands from the little warmth her pockets offered her and placed her hands in his. He rubbed his hands over hers and she sighed at the sudden heat that surrounded her.

“You’re grouchy when you’re cold,” he said amused.

“And you’re pushing your luck,” she warned, and he snorted at her.

He lifted a hand and pressed the back of it against Hermione’s cheek, a frown appearing on his face.

“Hell, you really are freezing,” he muttered, his amusement gone immediately and replaced with worry.

Hermione squeaked in surprise when he tugged her forward by her hand and into him, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her flush against him, his arms sliding around her back and resting his chin on top of her head. She didn’t voice her annoyance at being manhandled as the warmth of his body suddenly surrounded her and seemed to pass through the layers of clothing she wore and straight to her skin.

“Better?”

“Much better,” she nodded, lifting her arms to wrap around his waist underneath his jacket, her cold hands pressing against the fabric of his t-shirt.

“I don’t understand why you feel the cold, you’re like me,” he said.

“There’s not exactly a book that I can read or a person that I can ask about these things, everything I know was learned through observations and trial and error. I don’t know why I feel the cold, I just do. I don’t function well. In fact, I seem to be more sensitive to the cold than a regular human. It may not actually be that cold seeing as we’re now entering summer, but to me, it’s so cold I may as well be in the Antarctic.”

He rubbed his hands over her back and she felt the heat of his hands melt through her clothing until it warmed her back and she sighed.

“You’re bloody useful, like a hot water bottle. I may have to keep you around for when winter hits.”

He laughed at her and smiled at the way she snuggled closer to him, her nose nuzzling at his chest before she turned her head and pressed her cheek to where his heart sat.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” she spoke.

“About?”

“The killing sites, I think there’s a reason we haven’t been able to find any evidence and there’s a reason you’re not picking up a trace. I think that whatever this creature is, someone’s cleaning up after it.”

“That could be possible; The Beast had the Dread Doctors who did exactly that.”

She nodded. “Well, it certainly explains our lack of leads on the case, but any magic that is cast always leaves a trace behind, my wand would be able to detect it and since it hasn’t at any of the previous sites we’ve checked, it means the trace had long since faded. With this being the last known site for the killings, the residual magic may still be traceable, if only we could actually find the killing site.”

“Well, it’s getting late. Do you want to continue or head on back and return tomorrow?”

“Let’s just keep going, we might as well. If we don’t find anything tonight we’re back to square one,” she sighed and unwillingly stepped away from him and his heat, immediately missing it. “Come on then, whilst I still have my toes for balance.”

He laughed at her but fell into step beside her as they traipsed through the thick forest, having ditched the usual hiking trails as they knew the bodies had been found away from them.

Parrish had just helped Hermione to climb over a large fallen tree when his head suddenly snapped up and his eyes darted about, searching his surroundings carefully. Hermione noticed that his eyes flashed amber and she felt both hope and dread fill her.

“What is it?” She asked him with a frown.

“I’m not sure, something feels different,” he muttered.

His eyes briefly fell down to hers and without thought, Hermione pulled her wand from her pocket and gripped it in her hand tightly. They shared a nod and with his hand still wrapped around hers, he followed his instincts and led the way. Barely ten minutes later they stumbled onto a small clearing, and Hermione gasped at the sight that met them.

Two bodies laid on the ground, the man on his back and the woman on her stomach. As they neared closer, they could both see the slash marks covering the entirety of their bodies, as well as the woman missing her left arm and the man missing both his legs. Blood covered the ground, the bodies and was splattered against nearby trees.

Hermione stared in horror as Parrish released her hand and approached the bodies, kneeling down to check for a pulse.

“They’re dead,” he confirmed and Hermione screwed her eyes shut tightly.

It wasn’t the first body she’d seen and it certainly wasn’t the most gruesome, but it was the first body she had found herself for the case. In fact, she’d never seen the bodies but in photos.

“Hermione?” She opened her eyes at the sound of his voice, noticing that it was quiet and calm, too calm. “They’re still warm.”

She took a deep breath and forced herself to remain calm, before she slowly approached and knelt down beside Parrish, raising her wand and muttering under her breath.

“They’ve been dead less than half an hour,” she whispered, both their eyes widening at the meaning.

Prodigium could very well still be in the area.

“I think I should hellhound up.”

“I agree,” she nodded furiously.

They both stood and moved away from the bodies and he removed his leather jacket, which she took and shrunk it down so it would fit in her pocket.

“You think you can help me?”

She nodded before raising her wand and training it on his chest. “Ready?” He nodded. “ _Incendio_ ,” she muttered.

A ball of fire shot from the tip of her wand and collided with his chest. She closed her eyes against the bright light of the flames and only opened them when she felt warm hands cup her face. 

The glowing orbs of the hellhound catching her gaze, and with the flames surrounding him and keeping the cold away from her, she’d forgotten how beautiful he was.

“It is nearby,” he muttered. “I’m not sure where, but I can feel it. Whatever happens, stay behind me and don’t get involved.”

“But what if you get hurt,” she replied, worry and fear slipping into her voice.

“I’ll heal.”

“Not if you’re dead.”

“It won’t come to that, I promise.”

She opened her mouth to respond only to be cut off with a gentle kiss, his hot lips warming her own and his thumbs brushing her cheekbones lightly.

“Please be careful, I don’t like the thought of you getting hurt and should you, they’ll be a rampaging witch loose in these forests.”

He smiled at her. “My little warrior Goddess, always ready to run into battle and fight for those that can’t do it themselves,” he muttered fondly.

He stepped away from her completely and she watched as his nails grew into claws and his sharp teeth and fangs appeared. With a final look at her, he turned and darted off into the trees to the left of them, leaving behind a few spitting flames as they fell to the ground.

Hermione listened for sounds of any kind but heard none, not even wildlife which had likely been scared off. She turned back to the bodies and scanned them for any residual magic but found no traces except for her own, meaning whoever was covering for the creature hadn’t come by yet.

As she made to stand, she caught sight of a large bite mark on the man’s shoulder and on closer inspection she noticed a gooey liquid leaking from it. Her eyes widening in realisation, she conjured up a small potions vial and scooped some of the substance into the vial, making sure to have enough for several tests.

It was venom, and with it, they’d not only be able to get a potential DNA sample they would be able to compare against their database, but they’d be able to tell which being or creature the venom belonged to, filling in the gaps about Prodigium’s other half. They’d never found venom before, but there had been plenty enough bite marks, which meant it had always been cleaned away before it could be discovered.

Hermione checked the woman and found a bite mark with leaking venom on her leg and she quickly conjured another vial and took a sample from that, too. She slipped both vials into her pocket for safety and she stood and moved away from the bodies.

She wished she had something to cover them with until she had the chance to send word that they’d been discovered, but all she had were splinters of wood, trees and grass; there was nothing she could do.

She stuffed her hands in her pockets, feeling the cold beginning to settle in once more and she started to pace, worry for her hellhound and deputy filling her.

A sudden roar had her rooted to the spot as fear shot through her and making her unable to move. She could hear the sounds of twigs and leaves’ breaking under a heavyweight and it was getting louder, meaning it was growing closer.

Hermione slowly twisted her body around and just in time as the creature they’d been searching for jumped free of the trees and landed with a skid in the clearing, a few feet away from her.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Page Count: 5

She stared at it in horror, suddenly becoming aware of why no one was able to give them an accurate description of it, of why the witnesses were so traumatised that their memories couldn’t be trusted. It was truly terrifying, more so than Voldemort and his Death Eaters had ever been.

The creature, it did look like a wolf but not at the same time. It was massive, she’d never seen a creature so big. It must’ve stood at nine-feet tall, being almost double her own height and certainly so in width. It had large pointed ears on the top of its head, but instead of a long snout, it had a small nose much like a cat’s. Its eyes were large and an abnormal bright, glowing blue and they were difficult to tear your gaze from. It had a mouth full of teeth and they were pointed and sharp, looking more like something you’d see on a shark. Its claws were so large and sharp they may as well have been talons and they were a dirty yellow colour. The fur was nowhere near what the witnesses had said, she’d been expecting black or a dark brown, but that couldn’t have been any further from the truth. The fur was long in some places but shorter in others and a snowy-white colour, but there was no tail consistent with wolves either.

Just what was this creature?

Hermione felt her hand shaking in her terror and had to force herself to take a step back when the creature took a step towards her. The creature snarled viciously and continued to approach her. She didn’t know how, but she found the courage to lift her wand and fire off a Stunner.

“ _Stupefy_ ,” she whispered, her voice shaky. The Stunner bounced off the creature, not affecting him in the least. “ _Flipendo! Impedimenta! Petrificus Totalus!_ ”

She fired each spell in succession and they all bounced off the creature without so much as leaving a scratch, in fact, she only seemed to be angering it further as it sped in its steps to reach her. She panicked.

“ _Sectumsempra!”_ She called desperately.

The creature howled in pain as the nasty curse sliced open its skin and blood slowly began to drop from the wounds. She knew the spell hadn’t affected it the way it would a human, but now she knew that it could be harmed and it wasn’t invincible against all forms of magic.

The creature snarled at her before dropping onto all fours and charging at her, she let out a silent scream and turned to run, only she didn’t have to. A blaring ball of fire bounded out from the trees and crashed into the creature, sending them both slamming into a tree and away from Hermione.

Hermione held her wand tightly and a hand against her mouth as she watched the creature and the hellhound wrestling and fighting, them both clawing and snarling at each other in their battle of strength and power.

The creature howled when its fur caught fire and burned at its skin before it turned and ran in the opposite direction, without a glance to her, her hellhound chased after it, taking his heat and light with him.

Hermione caught her breath as the terror she had felt faded slightly and she caught sight of a bloody branch and she approached it. Given the angle at which they’d both hit the tree, she knew the blood belonged to the creature and so she conjured another vial, this one larger and with her wand she cut several chunks off from the branch, placing them into the vial and then she shrunk it down and placed it into her pocket.

Deciding she no longer wanted to stay in the dark forest with nothing but dead bodies for company, she lit her wand and followed the trail of capsized trees, embers and blood. It was a few minutes later when she heard an agonised sound of pain and fear and worry coursed through her.

That hadn’t been the creature, it’d been her hellhound.

No longer caring for her own safety and her only focus on getting to him so she could help him, she darted through trees and followed their trail until she came out at another clearing, only this one seemed to lead to a cliff face that overlooked the lake below.

Her eyes searched for her hellhound but saw and heard nothing and so with heavy breathing and aching muscles, she slowly took a step forward, and then another until she was stood in the middle of the clearing and she slowly turned in a circle, the only light coming from the moon and her wand.

A deafening roar sounded and the creature stumbled out of the trees and straight towards her.

“ _Sectumsempra_!” She yelled, knowing it was the only spell that had been able to harm it so far, and not wanting to waste time testing more.

The creature howled and stumbled slightly before it charged at her on all fours. She turned and ran from it, but she wasn’t fast enough. She heard the fabric ripping as sharp claws picked her up by the back of her coat and threw her across the clearing, scratching the back of her neck and dropping her wand in the process.

She screamed before that was cut off as she hit the ground with such a force she knew she was going bruise as she hit her shoulder, elbow and hip. She continued roll across the ground and she tried to stop herself but knew she wouldn’t be able to and that it would happen once her momentum slowed, except the edge of the cliff was nearing and she was running out of land.

With a hysterical scream, she toppled straight over the edge of the cliff and before she crashed to her death, she was able to instinctively grab onto a rock ledge and it stopped her from falling.

She dangled over the lake at what must’ve been at least eighty-feet above ground and with only a small ledge keeping her from certain death. She continued to scream, unable to stop herself and she looked up, trying to figure out if she could reach the edge of the cliff and pull herself up, but with her shoulder killing her she knew she wouldn’t make it. She was struggling to hold onto the rock ledge and she knew that if she didn’t figure out a way to pull herself up, she’d fall from no longer being able to hold herself up; she could already feel her grip slipping and her arms weakening.

Bright amber eyes and flames appeared, hanging over the edge of the cliff and her screams cut off when she saw her hellhound with a few cuts on his face made by claws and he looked to have some on his arms, too, as he leaned over the edge and held out both his hands to her so he could pull her up.

“No, you need to go after it,” she called through her fear and panic.

“It’s wounded and retreated,” he replied, fear shining in his beautiful eyes but the calmness in his voice did help to calm her a little. “Take my hands and I’ll pull you up.”

“I can’t, I hurt my shoulder, I’m barely holding on.”

“Take my hand,” he said more urgently.

She shook her head, tears leaking from her eyes as she looked down, deciding if she’d survive the fall or not.

“Hermione,” that was Parrish’s voice, not the hellhound’s.

That captured her attention and she looked up, her eyes getting caught by the light brown orbs that belonged to Parrish, yet the fire still surrounded him and he still had his fangs and claws.

This was them working together. This was them working as one.

“Hermione, take my hand, I won’t let you fall,” he promised softly.

She looked back down to the ground and took a deep breath. Knowing that she wouldn’t be able to hold her weight on her injured shoulder, but also knowing it was going to hurt her shoulder more when she reached up, she prepared herself for the pain. She quickly released her grip and lifted up, her hand being held tightly by his and she quickly did the same with the other. She gave a scream when she was lowered slightly and she bumped her knee against the cliff face.

“I’ve got you, you’re not going to fall,” he told her.

“If I do I’ll haunt your arse until your last dying breath!” She shouted.

“You make it sound as though that’ll be a punishment,” he replied, his face calm but she could see the worry and fear in his eyes. He couldn’t hide it from her.

He seemed to be getting his footing so to speak as she was lowered a little more before she was suddenly tugged upwards and she gave a scream of surprise as she was pulled straight over the cliff face and back onto solid ground. He toppled backwards and landed on his back and she fell on top of him, sprawled across his chest and both his arms wrapped around her, keeping her to him as they both breathed heavily.

“I told you not to get involved,” this voice belonged to the hellhound and sure enough when she lifted her head, his eyes were once more amber.

She wiped away her tears and took a calming breath, feeling safe in his arms.

“You should know, I don’t take well to being ordered about.”

She pushed herself up and away from him, her eyes widened when she saw the extent of his injuries. Not only did he have claw marks on his face and arms, but he had deeper wounds on his stomach and whilst he wasn’t bleeding, he did appear to be leaking lava and ash, a sight she’d never before seen.

“Merlin, you’re hurt,” she whispered.

“It will heal, I must stay this way in order for it to do so; we heal much faster in this form than the human one.”

“I need to get you out of here in case it comes back; I need to get you somewhere clean and warm.”

“It’s not coming back, it’s gone. Your magic hurt it badly and it’s retreated to heal.”

“Still, I should get you out of here, but if I move you I risk making your injuries worse,” she worried her lip with her teeth and his hand rose to push her hair back from her face. “We’ll have to stay here until you’re better, can you walk?”

He nodded and she helped him to his feet, and despite his words, he stumbled with his steps so she supported him and guided him over to a large tree, where she set him down and he leaned back against the trunk.

“It will heal, my Goddess,” he spoke after seeing her watching him worriedly.

He held his hand out to her, his sharp teeth and claws retracting until all that was left were the dancing flames and his beautiful eyes. She took his hand and he pulled her to him, settling her down between his parted legs and pulling her back to lean against him, despite the injuries to his torso.

“My wand,” she muttered, before holding out her hand and summoning it, catching it when it flew straight into her palm.

“You are strong,” he said, sounding tired but proud.

She didn’t reply as she busied herself with setting a series of protective barriers around them, making sure that should someone happen upon them, not only would they not be able to see them, but they wouldn’t be able to get close to them either. She did the same with animals and placed a charm over them to keep them dry should it rain during the night. With a final alert ward settling into place with the others, she removed the contents of her pockets and set them off to the side, before removing her coat and transfiguring it into a blanket big enough to cover the both of them despite him not needing it.

“I know you are tired, get some sleep, I will keep you safe.”

“I know,” she replied, shuffling slightly so that her cheek pressed against his chest, over his heart and listening to his steady heartbeat.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Page Count: 7

When Parrish’s eyes fluttered open, the sun was low in the sky and the sound of chirping birds filled his ears. When he realised that his back and neck ached from having slept strangely and also the heavyweight on his chest, he looked down and his eyes widened in surprise.

Hermione was curled up against his chest, twisted slightly so her shoulder and some of her back pressed against him. He could feel that one of her arms had wrapped around his waist, her cold hand pressed against his back, whilst the other hand was pressed against his chest, close to her face where her cheek was laid over his heart. She was quiet and her breathing even and deep, meaning she wasn’t going to wake for a little while longer. He felt her shiver against him and he frowned, automatically lifting his hands from the small of her back and moving one to her shoulders and the other the middle of her back and he rubbed his hands over the fabric of her hooded jumper, noticing that the blanket that was draped over them was the same colour as her coat had been.

He couldn’t remember much from the previous night and he didn’t know why they were in the positions they currently were, he supposed he should’ve been worried but he was used to not remembering the happenings of the night before.

He shook his head slightly, the last thing he remembered was finding the bodies and Hermione throwing a ball of fire at him, and despite him knowing it wouldn’t hurt him, he’d still been a little afraid. From that point, his memory goes blank until something happens he wasn’t sure how to process.

He remembered hearing a voice in the back of his mind. _‘She needs you,’_ it spoke. It was his voice but deeper, stronger, it was the hellhound.

His vision had blurred and when the spots disappeared, his heart had constricted at the sight of Hermione hanging onto a small rock ledge for dear life as she hung over the lake below at a height that would kill her if she let go and fell. He couldn’t breathe as her terrified screams filled his ears and her arms shook with the effort of holding herself up. The only reason he was able to remain calm was that the hellhound had taken over his emotions to allow him to think clearly.

“ _Hermione,”_ he’d said and her head snapped up to him, her eyes flashing between amber and chocolate brown and her screams died down to whimpers. _“Hermione, take my hand, I won’t let you fall.”_

Her eyes had darted to the ground and then back up to him before she reached up and he clasped his hand firmly around one of hers and they quickly followed with the other one. He felt her slip slightly and she screamed in terror, the sound shattering his heart into a thousand pieces.

 _“I’ve got you, you’re not going to fall,”_ he’d spoken.

 _“If I do I’ll haunt your arse until your last dying breath!”_ She’d shouted back.

Despite the situation, he couldn’t help admire her ability to find a way to joke about her near-death experience, even when she was terrified and still at risk of falling to her death.

 _“You make it sound as though that’ll be a punishment,”_ he’d replied, hoping a joke of his own would calm her a little and he shuffled his body weight slightly, as he lowered her a little more and then pulled her up.

He couldn’t remember anything after that.

Why were they still in the clearing and not back at her apartment? What had happened with the creature? Had they found it?

Hermione shifted against him, drawing his attention and she made a noise in her sleep before her eyes slowly fluttered open. She titled her head slightly and when her eyes caught his, a sleepy smile pulled at her mouth. Her eyes closed once more and she sighed, snuggling further into his warmth until she seemed to come back to her senses and her eyes flew open and she bolted back from him.

“Bloody hell, Jordan, you scared the hell out of me!” She half yelled, half shrieked.

His inside constricted at the use of his first name. He really must’ve frightened her.

“You were hurt, I didn’t know how to help you, you could barely walk and I didn’t want to risk worsening your injuries through magical travel,” she explained quickly, her eyes scanning his body and her hands following their path, checking him for injuries.

He felt himself shiver at her touch and it wasn’t due to the coldness of it before he brought both hands up and gently caught her hands in his, and her eyes darted back up to him and her mutters cut off.

“I’m fine, Hermione,” he promised. “Whatever injuries I might have had are now healed. Can you tell me what happened? I don’t remember much.”

She frowned slightly but nodded. “You disappeared into the trees, I couldn’t see or hear anything. I was worried about you and I was pacing to distract myself, I heard a noise and when I turned around, Prodigium was there.”

“You saw it?” His eyes widened.

“Yes, it’s truly terrifying, I could barely move,” she whispered, looking away from him as if she was ashamed by her fear, but he released one of her hands and gently took her chin in his hand and turned her head back to face him.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” he promised. “I know how strong you are, but even the strongest of people can be afraid. We know the psychological damage seeing this creature can do to people, the fact that you seem to be functioning and lucid is amazing.”

She took a deep breath and nodded. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” she spoke quietly. “The witness accounts had been right about its eyes and its size. It must’ve been nine-feet tall at least, its teeth looked like something you’d see from a shark and its claws may as well have been talons due to their size. And its fur, it wasn’t black or brown like we thought; it was white, pure snowy-white. It looked like a wolf, but it didn’t at the same time. It didn’t have the snout or the tail, even the shape of its eyes was wrong,” she trailed off, a distant look in her eyes.

“Hermione, tell me what happened,” he instructed gently.

“It came at me, I did my best to fight it off but all of my spells just bounced off it without no effect. I used a much darker curse than I usually would, but it seemed to be the only thing that could touch it. I injured it and it just made it angry. You came out of nowhere and were able to get it away from me, I saw you fighting and clawing at each other before it caught fire and ran away. You chased after it and I stayed behind, it left evidence behind, blood from its injuries and venom in the bite wounds on the victims and I collected samples of both.”

“That’s never been found before,” he said surprised.

“I know, which means that whoever’s cleaning up after it hadn’t arrived yet, so I made sure to take enough samples that would allow for several tests to be run. With it we should be able to tell what the creature is.”

“That’s good,” he said gently. “What happened after we left you?”

“I heard a noise and I knew you were hurt, I panicked and followed your trail until it led me here to this clearing. I couldn’t hear or see anything until Prodigium came out of the trees. Between the both of us, we’d injured it badly. It came at me and I sent another curse at it before it flung me across the clearing, I rolled right off the edge of the cliff.” Her head turned and she stared at the edge of the cliff with a haunted look on her face, and he gently guided her head back towards him. “You saved me, you both did.” Her eyes were wide and beautiful. “I told your hellhound to leave me and go after Prodigium but he refused. When it was evident I was too panicked to actually see reason, you worked together. The hellhound was still the hellhound but he had your eyes and your voice, and you were able to calm me enough to talk some sense into me.” She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. That would explain why he remembered that happening. “When you pulled me up, you were the hellhound again and you were injured, it looked really bad. I was able to get you over here and I placed some protective words around us in case it came back.”

“Well I’m all better now, what do you say we get out of here? I don’t know about you but I’m starving.”

“Let’s go home,” she nodded, all too happy to get away from the forest. They both climbed to their feet and Hermione wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and he raised an eyebrow in amusement.

“For your modesty, I don’t have anything else with me and I have to apparate to the entrance point so I can alert the guard about the bodies,” she explained as she picked up the vials of venom and blood and his leather jacket. He took them from her so she could wrap her arm around his and apparate them.

~000~000~000~

They landed in the living room of her apartment and he stumbled slightly until she righted him and gave him a worried glance.

“Bed, now.”

“Excuse me?” He felt both eyebrows raising and nearly disappearing into his hairline.

“You heard me, get yourself to bed now. You need to rest.”

“I’m fine, and we should get to the office.”

“Now, you’re going to go to bed and get some rest. We were the ones that found the bodies and the evidence, so there’s no point in reading the report that’ll be sent over, we know what it’s going to say anyway, and I need to send the samples to the lab and it’ll take time for the results to come through. Going to the office will be pointless. So, you’re going to get yourself to bed, otherwise, I’ll use magic and spell-o-tape you to the mattress.”

He made to argue but she glared at him and pointed to the corridor, and deciding it best not to argue with the little witch, he turned on his heel and made his way to his bedroom. Once he entered, he draped the blanket and his jacket on the foot of the bed, placed the vials on the chest of drawers and he made his way into the bathroom. He quickly jumped in the shower, the hot water helping to ease his aching muscles and washing away the mud and soot from his body. He quickly dried off and dressed in his underwear and a t-shirt, before climbing into bed, propping himself up against the pillows and looking around the room whilst twiddling his thumbs.

Not long later there was a knock on the door and he called for Hermione to come in, his eyes widening slightly when he saw her carrying a tray that sat a mug of coffee, a glass of orange juice, a plate with some toast, scrambled eggs and bacon and a second plate that held a stack of pancakes with a bottle of maple syrup next to it.

She walked over to him and placed the tray on his lap before stepping back and crossing her arms over her chest.

“Eat it, all of it,” she instructed.

“Yes, Mom,” he snorted, before picking up his mug and taking a sip from his coffee, the hot liquid being the exact way he liked it.

“You can say what you want, but you need rest and I’m sure as hell going to make sure you’re taken care of in the meantime.”

“You’re a momma bear, aren’t you?” He said amused, picking up his fork and eating his scrambled eggs once she glared at him.

“Through and through,” she didn’t even bother denying it.

“And where’s your breakfast?”

“I’ve eaten.”

He narrowed his own eyes at her. “No you haven’t, you’re still grouchy so you haven’t had your morning coffee, I’m not going to die in the time it takes for you to eat breakfast.”

“Fine, but if I come back and you’re not where I left you, I’ll put the ‘hell’ in hellhound.”

He laughed at her as she left the room, shaking his head he returned to his breakfast, noticing that not only had she made him pancakes, but she’d made chocolate chip pancakes, his favourite.

Fifteen minutes later he had just finished eating and Hermione reappeared in the doorway, still looking tired but more alert and she had some colour in her cheeks. She took the tray from him and banished it to the kitchen, before she rounded to the other side of the bed and climbed on, sitting beside him with her back propped up against the headboard, her arms folded and her legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles.

“Get some sleep; I’m not leaving until you do.”

“Hermione, I’m fine,” he promised.

“You didn’t see what I did last night, Deputy,” she argued.

And that’s when he realised, she was afraid to leave him alone in case something happened to him. She hadn’t been able to help him heal the way she wanted to and not only that, she didn’t want to be alone either. He said nothing more and his eyes moved to land on the large tome sitting on the bedside table, her eyes followed.

“How far have you gotten?” She asked him.

“Only one chapter left to read about the portraits,” he answered.

“Really?” She asked surprised, given that they’d barely had much time to themselves over the weeks and he’d managed to practically finish the book.

He nodded and she blinked, before reaching over and taking the large tome in her hand, opening it up to the final chapter, and much to his amusement, she began to read the words aloud. He relaxed back into the pillows, closed his eyes and titled his head back, listening to her soft voice filling the silence in the room.

Hermione had nearly finished the chapter by the time he felt himself dozing off, only he sprung awake when a strange blue mist appeared from nowhere and it formed into the shape of an animal, some type of cat. And not only did it do that, but the mouth of the animal opened and a deep voice filled the room.

 _“Hermione, where are you? Kara has informed me that you have not shown up to your office, no one has seen or heard from you since yesterday morning. We are worried about you; please contact me as soon as possible.”_ The animal disappeared and Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose.

He’d vaguely recognised the voice as belonging to that of Hermione’s friend, the magical President. He’d only met him twice when he came to Hermione’s office for tea and to discuss the progress made on the case. He’d been polite and curious about his life in America but otherwise didn’t pry and left him to his own devices. Despite the man being a politician, Parrish liked him. He seemed kind and honest, which he knew was a rare trait in that profession, and Hermione seemed to be fond of the older man, too.

“What was that?” He asked in surprise at what he’d just seen.

“A Patronus,” she answered. “A Patronus is one of the most difficult forms of magic to perform and as such, most magical folk aren’t able to do so, there’s a very low percentage of those that can. A Patronus is essentially an embodiment of your soul; it’s a part of you which you are able to bring forward in order to send covert messages to others, which is how we communicated during the war. They are used as a defensive tactic against dementors, which are creatures that feed on every positive and happy emotion and thought in your life before they rip your soul from your body. They used to guard the prison before they were released and sent away from human civilisation after Voldemort won their loyalty during the war, they could no longer be trusted.” He looked horrified by that. “The only hope of stopping them is a Patronus, and each Patronus takes on the form on an animal, so it’s basically your spirit animal. Kingsley’s is a lynx, as you may have not been able to tell.”

She summoned her wand before raising it, the incantation on her tongue.

“I’m assuming you can do this magic, what’s your spirit animal?” He asked curiously.

“ _Expecto Patronum_ ,” she muttered, and a beautiful bird-like creature shot from her wand, flying around the room in a blue-silver mist.

“A phoenix,” she answered.

“Makes sense,” he nodded, his eyes watching the movement of the bird as it perched itself on the chest of drawers and looked at Hermione expectantly.

For obvious reasons, he’d never seen a phoenix before, but from what he could tell of the one in front of him, they were beautiful in a way that didn’t seem to be of the earth, though he knew the colouring was off, knowing phoenixes to be linked to reds, yellows and golds, the colours of fire. 

“Please fetch Kingsley for me, inform him that I will give him access through the floo,” she said and the phoenix gave a squawk before it flew over to the window and through the glass. “I haven’t always been a phoenix, my spirit animal changed when Fawkes passed into me.”

“So what was your spirit animal before?”

“An otter,” she shrugged. He raised an eyebrow. “Otters symbolise playfulness, wisdom, light-heartedness and optimism.” He tilted his head, realising that it was quite accurate. “I’ll be back, I just have to give Kingsley access through the floo.”

She closed the book and climbed off the bed, heading out of the room and grabbing the vials from the chest of drawers as she did so. He could hear voices coming from the living room, but couldn’t quite make out what was being said. Ten minutes later she returned and climbed back onto the bed, getting comfortable and she continued to read the final pages in the book.

“And that’s it, done. What do you think?”

“Very informative, it’s interesting to learn the history of the school, as well as the war. I can see why it’s your favourite book.”

She leaned over to put the book on the bedside table before she turned to face him.

“Right, considering the damage done to Prodigium and considering we don’t know a lot about it, I’m going to assume that it doesn’t have advanced healing, so it’ll be laying low for a few days. So, we have a bit of time on our hands, of which we’re going to spend getting you and your hellhound as one cohesive unit. And I’m not arguing with you on this, you’ve already done really well so far. You’re able to pull your hellhound forward for me to speak to, and you both worked together to save me last night, that’s the hard part done and dusted. Now you just have to be able to listen to each other and be able to exist as one being. We’ll start later, for now, you need rest. I’ll grab another book and be right back.”

She climbed off the bed and made to walk away before she stopped and turned to face him, a thoughtful look on her face. Before he could question her, she leaned over the bed and her soft, warm lips pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you for saving me,” she whispered, before pulling away and leaving the room, leaving him surprised but also happy.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Page Count: 8

“Focus, Deputy,” Hermione spoke.

“I am focusing,” he said frustrated, his eyes closed tightly and his brows furrowed as he stood in the middle of her office and she was perched on her desk, her feet swinging back and forth as she watched him.

“No, you’re not. You’re getting annoyed,” she replied, hopping off the desk and walking over to him.

When he felt her presence he opened his eyes and his annoyance at being unable to communicate with the hellhound was evident. It had been three days since they’d stumbled upon Prodigium, and he had spent most of his time trying to connect with his hellhound with Hermione helping him, though she would take a break and leave him to it when there was some paperwork that needed her attention.

“It’s not working,” he muttered.

“It will, you just have to have faith in yourself, I do. You’re powerful and special, there’s nothing you can’t do.”

She reached up and his eyes moved to hers when her hands gently cupped his face, keeping their gazes locked. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply and once she opened them, the chocolate brown had been replaced by fiery amber. He was mesmerised.

“Okay, hellhound,” she said softly, and although the hellhound was locked away inside of him, he knew he would be able to hear her. “He’s going to need your help. Speak to him. Help him. Tell him what to do. If we’re to defeat this creature and stop it from hurting anyone else, you both need to be as one. He can’t do that without you.”

She took her hands from him and stepped back, her eyes returning to chocolate brown.

“Try again, remember what I told you. Block out all sounds except for my breathing, my voice and my heartbeat. Listen to them, allow it to calm you. Mimic my breathing with your own. This will put you in a trance-like state, and when that happens you just have to listen. Listen to your hellhound, and he will do the rest.”

She moved back over to her desk, perching herself on the edge and she watched him closely. He sighed and closed his eyes, focusing on her steady heartbeat and her controlled breathing and he slowed his own to match hers. His mind cleared of all thoughts except those of fire and flames and heat.

He could hear a voice in the back of his mind, it was deep but quiet, as if it was too far away.

“Listen to him, Jordan,” Hermione spoke softly.

He could count on one hand the number of times she had used his name, and seeing as she didn’t do it often, when she did it made it all the more special and it always seemed to make his insides squirm and soften.

_‘It is time, you must listen to me. We are stronger as one.’_

~000~000~000~

Hermione heard a knock on her door and with a quick glance at Parrish, she slid off the desk and over to the door, opening it enough for her to pop her head around and so no one would be able to see inside.

“Yes, Kara?” Hermione questioned, seeing her favourite PA.

“Minister Shacklebolt has asked that I remind you of the ball this Saturday.”

Hermione sighed. “I was hoping if I ignored it, it would go away,” she muttered.

“Hermione, as an Order of Merlin: First Class recipient, a heroine of the war and a Department Head, you are expected to attend,” she spoke, as if Hermione were a small child and she was her mother.

“Yes, Kara,” she grumbled and Kara sniggered at her.

“I’ve spoken to the seamstress, she is almost finished with your gown and she wishes to know if there are any changes to the design before it is too late.”

Hermione bit her lip in thought before nodding. “Actually, I think I would like to change the colour. I’m not too fussed on the purple, and I swear, if she adds a single ruffle...”

“She’s afraid of you, she won’t,” she snorted, and after Hermione informed Kara of her new colour choice, she closed the door and turned back around, her eyes widening slightly.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you today,” she spoke, looking to the glowing amber eyes of the hellhound.

He smiled at her. “You took care of him, despite him being healed,” he sounded amused.

“Well, I wasn’t taking any chances, from what I could see you were healed, but there may have been internal damage that had yet to heal.”

“He was healed,” he repeated.

She scowled and crossed her arms over her chest. “Fine, I like taking care of you, I’ve grown quite fond of you both,” she admitted.

He approached her until he stood in front of her. “It is time. When we are one, he will have my memories.” She bit her lip nervously, and he seemed to understand. “He cares for you, he does not understand why but he will soon. My memories will come to him slowly as he needs time to process them. There is one last step before the process is complete and I need your help.”

“Okay,” she nodded.

He lifted both hands and held them out to her, one of them was human, the other belonged to the hellhound, the claws and flames unmistakable.

“I need for you to cut both my palms, he will do the rest.”

She frowned but she pulled her wand and with it, she placed a cut the length of his palm on both hands, blood ran from one hand whilst lava and ash ran from the other. He then leaned down to kiss her lightly on the mouth, before walking back into the middle of the room, closing his eyes and pressing his palms together as he muttered words she didn’t recognise under his breath.

She watched and waited for several minutes and when nothing happened, she made her way over to her desk and sat in her seat, putting her attention on the job application forms in front of her to keep her distracted.

It was almost thirty minutes later when a loud gasp sounded from him and he seemed to stumble backwards. Hermione darted from her seat and over to him, gently wrapping her small hands around his arms and keeping him steady.

“Are you alright?” She asked worriedly.

“Just a little dizzy,” he mumbled in reply, with his eyes yet to open.

She carefully guided him over to the couch and once he sat down, she perched herself on the coffee table in front of him, before conjuring a glass, filling it with water and handing it to him.

“It’ll pass,” she said softly. “I’m not sure what you’ve been doing for so long, but I know it involved some sort of blood ritual.” She looked down at his hands, seeing no sign of blood or the cuts on his palms, almost as if it hadn’t even happened.

“How long have I been gone, so to speak?”

“Maybe forty minutes,” she answered, taking his free hand in hers to comfort him.

“My head hurts.”

“I can get you a Pain Relief Potion if you wish; it’s very effective and works almost instantly.”

“It’s okay, it’ll pass. I can hear him now, as if he was stood right next to me. I can feel him, too. I mean, I could feel him before, but now it’s different,” he frowned slightly. “I still feel like me, only different. I feel... Stronger, more sure of myself.”

“That’s good,” she commented softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

“The pain’s going,” he said, before his eyes slowly opened for the first time and Hermione was captivated.

His once light brown eyes were still that, only now he had fiery flecks of glowing amber, too. And when she looked at the rest of him, his hair was different, too. It was still dark brown but there was more of a fiery tint to it than there was before, and his skin, it was more tanned than before, too. There was a sort of glow about him, as if he were stood in front of a fire and it was reflecting the colours across his face.

“What is it?” He asked, after seeing her surprised reaction and a smile later pulled at her mouth.

In response, she summoned the compact mirror she kept in the drawer of her desk and held it out to him. He took it curiously and flipped it open, staring at himself.

“Oh, that’s different,” he said.

She laughed lightly and shook her head. “It worked, not only mentally and emotionally, but physically, too. You are one with your hellhound and I’d bet my last sickle that from now on you’ll find things a lot easier. You’ll have control of your actions but you’ll still have your hellhound instincts. You’ll keep your memories and he told me that you’ll start getting his memories of the nights he took over. Now you don’t need fire, when you wish to swap to your hellhound form, all you have to do is think it and it will happen. It might take a little practice whilst you grow accustomed to everything but you’ve done it, and I don’t think I’ve ever been prouder. I’m happy for you both.”

~000~000~000~

“Hermione?”

“Yes, Deputy?” She replied, looking up and away from her desk.

Her eyes landed on him, he was lying on her couch with his arms behind his head and staring up at the ceiling. It had only been an hour since the ritual had been completed and he’d soon felt dizzy again, and so Hermione instructed him to lie down and not to move until he felt better. He’d been quiet until now.

“Do you know how to fire a gun?”

She blinked in surprise. Well, that was a random thing to ask someone.

“Not really, I was curious a few years back and I went to a local firing range. I didn’t like it, the noise of the gunshots kept startling me. In theory I’d probably have good aim due to my spell casting, but I have no need for such a weapon, why?”

“I was thinking that maybe I should teach you the basics. We know that only certain spells will harm Prodigium but we don’t have the time to test which ones they are. Between the both of us we managed to injure it, and now that I’ve gotten control over my hellhound, I’m confident that next time we’ll be successful. Bullets may injure it and if you hit the right places, it may weaken it, especially with organs like the heart or lungs.”

“We try not to kill those we’re after, but this case has extenuating circumstances. Kingsley has order the creature to not only be killed, but for the body to be brought back to The Ministry so the Department of Mysteries may analyse it. We need to know if this is some sort of mutation, if it’s due to crossbreeding or if this creature has been created by humans.”

“Well, bullets might not kill it but they’ll help to slow it down,” he shrugged, turning his head to look at her.

She hated how handsome he was, it was very distracting, especially when he was stretched out on her couch with his muscles bunched tightly and his t-shirt showing a little of his stomach to her eyes.

“It can’t hurt, I suppose,” she decided.

“You’ll have to do it, I won’t be able to fire a gun when in hellhound mode, it’ll just melt in my hands.”

“I figured,” she replied. “Prodigium won’t be quiet for much longer, our best chance of success is to take it off guard, we need to find it before it finds another victim. I’m sick of seeing the dead bodies. It’s been going on too long and I can’t take it any longer.”

“But we can’t track it, I can tell when it’s nearby but that’s useless unless we have a starting point.”

“I’ve been talking with Kingsley and there is something we can do.”

“I’m listening,” he responded, giving her a nod of encouragement.

“We’re still waiting on the lab results, they’re having trouble separating the markers in the venom and are not yet able to tell us what this creature is, but I kept a little of the trunk shavings with Prodigium’s blood on it. There’s a form of magic I can use, but it’s actually illegal due to how dangerous it can be if used for the wrong purpose.” He frowned. “Using its blood, I should be able to take us straight to it, no matter where it is in the world, even if it’s under the protection of wards. I’ve brought the matter up with Kingsley and although he can’t legally give me permission to use such magic, he’s willing to turn a blind eye. But if I were to get caught, I’d not only lose my job, I’d face time in Azkaban for breaking the laws on ancient and deadly magics.”

“That’s settled it then, you’re not doing it,” he said, pushing himself up until he was sitting straight and his feet were planted firmly on the ground.

“If I don’t we may never find this creature and it’ll keep killing, for all we know, this creature may be immortal, too.”

“You’re not doing it.”

“I have to.”

“Over my dead body,” he spoke with a glare.

“You’re immortal, that’ll be very difficult,” she shot back, a glare of her own on her face.

His hellhound was in his head, telling him to stop talking before he got the both of them hexed. He wasn’t sure whether to be amused or annoyed with that.

“Alright, we’ll discuss this later,” he said. “Everyone will be leaving soon, we should see if we can find a firing range.”

“There’s one about fifteen miles from The Leaky Cauldron, it’s where I went last time. You need to be a member to be granted access but I can get us in easy enough.”

“Let’s head out.”

~000~000~000~

Hermione had apparated them into the alley behind the firing range and with a few spells, they’d easily gotten into the building and past the reception area and into the firing range. Though it had taken a little longer than usual as Parrish had easily fallen into conversation with the man behind the desk. Hermione hadn’t understood a single word of it and it all went straight over her head, and when he caught her confused look, he’d thankfully ended the conversation.

They were the only ones in the firing range given that it was a weekday and it would be closing for the day in less than an hour, so they didn’t have long. Parrish had chosen a handgun that was the same style, make and model as his own so when it came to her using it, it would feel familiar and she wouldn’t be thrown off by the weight or size of it.

Hermione had removed her blazer and her heels, leaving her barefoot and dressed in a black blouse and navy blue trousers, and Parrish thought she looked adorable with the ear protectors that were far too big for her and the safety glasses, and her hair pulled up into an untameable mess on top of her head. He instructed her on what to do and then stood off to the side, watching her closely.

His mouth twitched into a smile when she aimed the gun at the target, put her finger on the trigger and before she’d pulled the trigger, she would flinch, her face would scrunch up and she’d look away with her eyes closed. She’d been doing this for the last ten minutes and still hadn’t fired a single shot.

“Okay, that’s enough of that,” he spoke, moving over to her so he stood behind her, her back to his chest.

“I don’t like the noise, it startles me,” she all but pouted and he struggled to contain his laughter.

“There’s nothing to be scared of, and I’m going to prove it to you.”

He brought both his hands up to cover her own and lifted the gun a little higher so it was pointed at the centre of the target. 

“Alright, I want you to take a deep breath, aim at your chosen point on the target. Now, inhale and hold it, and when you’re ready, pull the trigger as you exhale.”

He stepped back to give her some room and when he thought she was going to give up and flinch again, she pulled the trigger, but she did still startle slightly at the noise. She hadn’t hit the centre of the target, but she hadn’t missed completely either which wasn’t bad for a first time.

“Oh My God! I did it! I actually did it! I hit the target!” She said excitedly, jumping up a down before turning to look at him with a large grin. “Why didn’t you tell me there’s nothing scary about it? What were you thinking worrying me like that?”

He laughed at her as she smacked at his arm lightly, before turning back to the target and aiming the gun. When she pulled the trigger she wasn’t as hesitant as before, and she laughed when she hit the target again. She fired the gun until she ran out of bullets, and he pressed the button that brought the target forward and he took it from the hanger. Each bullet had hit the target and with each shot she fired, she’d gotten closer and closer to the centre, but hadn’t quite hit it.

“Let’s go again, we have time before we get kicked out and I think I’ll be able to actually hit the centre this time,” she said excitedly.

He chuckled at her but took the gun from her hands so he could reload it and he handed it back to her. By the time they’d gotten kicked out, Hermione had managed to hit the centre of the target with the last four bullets and he couldn’t help smiling at her proudly.

“I’m taking this home and framing it,” she told him, taking the target sheet from him and rolling it up, putting it in her pocket after she’d slipped on her shoes and blazer once more.

By the time they left the building and headed towards the alleyway so she could apparate them back, his head was spinning from her excited and rushed words, as she pulled him down the street by his hand.

“We have to do that again! I think I’ll be able to hit the centre each time, after all, I’m rather good with my spells and taking into account the direction the wind is travelling so it doesn’t throw off my trajectory. Now that I’m familiar with the weight of a gun I should be able to do the same! We should come back tomorrow! My God, if Harry ever finds out he’ll be relentless with his teasing. Should we try with other models so I can understand the differences or just stick with the other one, as I’m now familiar with it? And should...”

He wasn’t sure if it was his decision or the hellhound’s, but unable to stop himself at how adorable she looked in her excited babbling that she kept bumping into people on the street, he stopped in his steps and she almost fell over, before she righted herself and turned around to look at him, the excitement still on her face and words still pouring out of her mouth.

“Maybe I should brush up on my knowledge of angles and trajectories in case I’m forced to...”

He cut off her words by ducking down and pressing his mouth against hers.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Page Count: 5

Her soft, warm lips seemed to mould against his own perfectly, despite knowing he’d surprised her when he’d suddenly kissed her.

He pulled back from her, looking down into her wide, surprised eyes.

“Why did you do that?” She asked quietly, breathlessly he noted. 

His eyes bore into hers, refusing to look away. “It felt right,” he replied honestly.

Her eyes darted across his face as if searching for something, but he didn’t know what.

“Yeah,” she agreed in a whisper. “Yeah, it did.”

Her eyes flashed that fiery amber he’d grown to love seeing on her, before she reached up, her hands moving to the back of his neck and pulling him down to her as she tilted her head and their mouths met once more. He muttered a noise of surprise, having not expected her to kiss him back, at least not with the fire and heat she was using.

His arms wrapped around her, slipping to the small of her back and he pulled her closer to his body until they were pressed against each other. She nibbled at his lip and soothed it with a swipe of her hot tongue, before slipping it through his parted lips to meet with his own.

A growl that didn’t belong to him but the hellhound part of him, tore from his chest when she wound a hand into the hair at the back of his neck and she tugged, her nails scratching against his skin in a way that was both comforting and arousing.

When a group of teens walked past wolf-whistling, they reluctantly pulled back from each other, realising they were in the middle of a street in London and surrounded by people. They were both breathing a little heavier and a lovely flush covered her cheeks. They stared at each other, him mesmerised by the way her eyes were flashing between amber and chocolate brown, as if she was having trouble controlling herself.

“Let’s get out here,” she spoke, her voice breathless and he nodded in agreement.

She took his hand and pulled him down the street and they ducked into an alleyway, where she apparated them to the Leaky Cauldron and then they floo’d into her apartment.

They’d barely gotten out of the fireplace before they were wrapped around each other and their mouths pressed together as their tongues twined and danced. Fire coursed through his entire body and it didn’t seem to be settling, as though it wasn’t sure what to do.

Her hands were running over his chest before they settled on his shoulders, pushing his leather jacket off and down his arms. He reluctantly brought his hands away from her body to pull his jacket over his wrists and it dropped to the floor as she shrugged off her own blazer and kicked off her heels and their hands returned to exploring the other’s body.

She gave a slight groan when she was pressed up against the wall and she hit her back a little harder than was intended, and as an apology, he nibbled at her lip gently before swiping his tongue into her mouth. His hands shifted down her body until he reached her thighs just below her arse and she bounced up a little as he lifted her off her feet and pressed her against the wall, caging her in with his body as she hooked her legs around his waist and locked her ankles at the small of his back.

Her hands roamed his body, slipping between them until she gripped the edge of his t-shirt and she slowly pulled it up his body and over his head once he lifted his arms for her. She dropped it the ground and her hands moved to trace the thick muscle that was his shoulders and back, before slipping around to his chest and down his stomach, his hips bucking into hers when the palms of her hands moved over his nipples. She dug the heels of her feet into his back and bit his lip when he tore a moan from her. She could feel her body temperature rising and the more he distracted her, the harder it was getting to control herself. She didn’t want to hurt him.

She heard rather than felt her blouse being torn open, the buttons flying in every direction possible and scattering on the floor and he pushed it over her shoulders, the fabric hanging open and held up by the crook of her elbows. She tore her mouth from his and left a blazing trail of kisses down his cheek, nibbling at his jaw and down his throat, before she latched onto his earlobe and began suckling at it.

A groan fell from his lips and he pushed her body against the wall harder, one of his hands gripping her waist and the other smoothing down her soft, taut stomach, not only feeling the hot heat coming off her skin –and it seemed to be getting hotter- but he could feel several raised scars, too. He knew it best not to mention them.

She released his earlobe from her mouth and brought her lips back to his, only he pulled back from her soon after and returned the favour, his hot lips moving to suckle at her throat and to the weak spot behind her ear. He knew it to be sensitive by the way her hands tightened on his shoulder and in his hair, by the way, a delightful little moan tore from her lips and by the way she ground her hips against his.

He moved his mouth lower, his hot tongue trailing down her throat and over her collar bones and down into the valley of her breasts.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he breathed out, pulling back from her, the already hardening length in his boxers twitching at the sight she made.

Her eyes were shut tightly and her head tilted back against the wall, her lips were red and swollen and parted as she panted breathlessly and some of her hair had fallen out of its restraint and was framing her flushed face. When her head lifted and her eyes opened showing the steady glowing amber, he was sure she’d be the death of him.

“What is it?” She breathed out breathlessly.

“I haven’t even taken you on a date,” he spoke, frowning slightly at the thought of bedding her when he hadn’t even had the chance to treat her like the beautiful woman she was.

She gave a breathless laugh. “Are you kidding me? That’s what’s bothering you?” He nodded seriously and she gave a sigh. “You’re such a gentleman that you’re a pain in the arse. Well, they say three’s the magic number, right?”

He nodded once more, wondering where she was going with her point. She removed her hand from his hair and held it up as she counted off the points on her fingers for him to see.

“Since meeting you, I’ve bought you coffee, you’ve bought me coffee. I’ve bought you lunch, you’ve bought me lunch. I’ve cooked you dinner, you’ve cooked me dinner. We go for walks in Diagon Alley and Muggle London and we’ll stop for an ice-cream or a drink. We spend time together in my apartment and at my office. Now, do they or do they not sound like dates to you?”

He frowned thoughtfully, now that she mentioned, they did sound like dates, even if they hadn’t been aware of it at the time.

“They do,” he agreed.

“Good, now shut up and kiss me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice and his mouth collided with hers. She brought her hands away from him so her blouse could fall the rest of the way down her arms and onto the ground and she pushed off the wall and into him. He took the hint and wrapped his arms around her back to keep her from falling and he moved away from the wall and stumbled down the corridor, going straight to the end of it to Hermione’s room.

She took her hand from his hair and reached behind her, twisting the doorknob and pushing the door open and he moved inside and went straight over to the bed, pressing her back against the mattress. He pulled back from her, standing to look down at her and she looked beautiful. Absolutely enchanting. And less than pleased with his actions.

His eyes travelled her body, seeing that there was a thin line going across her throat which he hadn’t noticed before. His eyes moved lower, catching sight of a large scar that started at her right shoulder and travelled diagonally down her body, going through the valley of her breasts, under her left breast and down to her left hip. A small collection of scars also sat close to her stomach and right hip.

He got the feeling she was watching for his reaction. What, did she think he would reject her for her scars? Did she think he wouldn’t want her? That he wouldn’t think she was beautiful?

Her gaze said she expected exactly that. Just who had she dated in her past to make her so self-conscious of her body?

He shook his head slightly and his eyes continued to roam her pale skin before they settled on her breasts held snugly in the red and black lace of her bra, and they heaved with every breath she took.

He took a calming breath and clenched his hands into fists, fighting for control. He felt his eyes open and the look on her face let him know that his own eyes had now changed, too, fiery amber to match her own.

She reached out to him and hooked her fingers into the belt loops on his jeans and she tugged him forward until his body covered hers and she latched her mouth onto his. His hands slipped over her body before they went to her back and she arched her body into his, making it easier for him to undo the clasp and pull the material away from her, dropping it to the floor. His mouth moved from hers and down her body until he reached her breasts and a breathless moan tore from her when his mouth closed around a nipple, nibbling and suckling at the peak.

She dug her nails into his shoulders and her legs squeezed around his hips tightly. He pulled back from her, chuckling slightly as he moved his kisses down her stomach until he reached the waistband of her trousers, and he quickly undid the button and zipper, pulling the fabric down her legs and making sure to take her underwear with it, too. He dropped the clothing to the ground, leaving her naked and bare to his gaze as his eyes roamed her figure hungrily.

She made a noise of impatience.

“It won’t take much effort to summon my wand and hex you,” she warned.

He chuckled at her before he covered her body with his own, his mouth placing gentle nips, licks and kisses on her neck and throat, and when he felt her unzipping his jeans, he moved further down her body so she couldn’t reach, holding in his laughter at her huff of annoyance which turned into a moan as he suckled at her nipple and her hands wound into his hair, tugging at the short strands. 

“Stop teasing,” she muttered, deliberately pulling at his hair hard enough that it made him wince.

His mouth twitched into a smirk as his lips moved down her stomach, tracing the little collection of scars by her hip. She held her breath when he moved lower, but he went straight past her centre and down to her ankles, picking up her right foot, noticing how small and dainty it was, as he placed little nips and licks against her ankle and slowly moving up the soft skin of her leg until he reached the top of her thigh, and then he moved to the other leg, starting at her ankle and slowly moving his kisses higher. He caught sight of what looked to be a bite mark on the inner side of her left thigh and he wondered if that was where she’d been bitten by the werewolf. He felt his protective instincts flare up until Hermione’s breathless cry pulled his attention and he continued with his path of travel.

“I swear to Merlin and the Founders, if you’re planning to... Oh, God!” She choked as he pressed a kiss to her centre and he hid his chuckle from her when her head fell back and her hands gripped the bedding tightly.

He pushed her legs a little further apart and he settled himself between her thighs, getting himself comfortable so he could give her the attention she deserved. His arms wrapped around her thighs, holding them down and in place, whilst his tongue and mouth worked at her centre, licking and lapping, suckling and nibbling carefully, his tongue flicking over the little bundle of nerves and then sucking it into his mouth before he dipped his tongue into her entrance teasingly.

He knew she was tightly wound; she was muttering to herself, her head was thrown back and her body had grown tense and was beginning to shake slightly under him. He could feel the temperature of her skin, hotter than should’ve possible and from the corner of his eye, he caught sight of smoke.

Her soft moans and breathless whines and little whimpers were music to his ears, and when he dipped his tongue into her entrance and tugged at her nub gently with his teeth, a high pitched whine sounded in the room and he knew he had her. He continued to lap at her, guiding her through the wave of pleasure coursing through her.

When she sagged into the mattress, her body relaxed, and her hands released their grip on the bedding, only then did he stop and he pulled back, all too happy to watch her in her post-orgasmic glow, because she was literally glowing, almost as if a fire were casting shadows on her.

Her cheeks were a lovely pinkish-red colour and he thought it was of his new favourite sights. Her breathing was heavy and laboured and she’d brought her hands up to push her hair out of her face and away from the beads of sweat that appeared on her forehead. He wasn’t sure if that was due to him, or if it were caused by her own fiery body temperature.

His eyes moved to where her hands had been and they widened slightly, not only seeing black soot marks on the white bedding, but it seemed that where her fingers had been, she’d burnt holes in the blanket, the edges around the holes singed black and still smoking a little.

She really did have fire in her.

It was a good job he was fire-proof.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Page Count: 6

“You’re wearing far too many clothes,” Hermione spoke, drawing his attention and her gaze was so fiery and heated, he wondered if it were possible for her to set someone ablaze with her eyes alone.

An amused smiled pulled at his face as he moved to hover over her, his knees between her legs and his hands on either side of her head.

“And what are you going to do about it?” He questioned.

A frown of concentration appeared on her face and just as he was about to ask her what she was doing, her wand flew into the room and landed in her hand, and with a flick, the rest of his clothing suddenly disappeared, leaving him naked. He looked down at himself in surprise and then back to her glowing eyes in amusement.

“Wasn’t expecting that,” he chuckled.

She shrugged and dropped her wand, letting roll off the bed and onto the ground as she pulled him down to her and kissed him with so much hunger, so much passion and fire, he wondered if she were trying to burn him alive.

They shuffled slightly, moving up the bed until Hermione’s head was resting on the pillows and he pulled back to look at her. Her hand came up to his face, her thumb softly running over his cheek and she stared into his amber eyes and he stared into hers.

“Who is this?” She asked.

Seeming to understand her question, he answered. “It’s us, me. I’m me and he’s me, too.”

She stared at him for a little longer before nodding and pulling him back down to kiss her. She wound her arms around his neck and when he settled himself in the cradle of her thighs, she pushed at him and rolled him onto his back so she straddled him. She sat up slightly to look down at him and his hand came up to her hair, finding the clip and removing it so the rest of her hair fell down her back and spilt over her shoulders in messy, wild curls. He threw the clip to the floor and buried his hands in her hair, the soft strands getting tangled around his fingers.

“I much prefer your hair like this,” he told her when she raised an eyebrow.

“You’re the first,” she replied, bending to place a chaste kiss to his mouth.

“Err, I don’t have anything with me,” he told her, looking a little embarrassed.

She looked confused until she understood his meaning and she chuckled at him, shaking her head lightly.

“I’m on the Contraception Potion; it’s one hundred percent effective. There are different versions, but the one I’m on I only have to take once a month. Luckily for you, my last dose was due two days ago, so I’m good for a while.”

He raised an eyebrow and she shrugged in response before a worried look crossed her face.

“What is it?”

She worried at her lip with her teeth and with his hands still in her hair, he massaged her scalp.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she admitted.

“You won’t hurt me.”

“My fire might, I’m sure you’ve noticed my body temperature and I know you’ve seen the holes I’ve burnt into the bedding. In situations like this, I’ve been known to actually burn people.”

“Hermione, you’re forgetting I have fire, too. I’m a hellhound, I’m fire-proof; you can’t hurt me. I promise you won’t hurt me.”

She made to argue but he just pulled her down to kiss him, distracting her from her worries. She shuffled slightly and lifted her body off him so her hand could snake between them and she gripped the hardened length in her hot hand and he hissed against her mouth as she worked him over, learning quickly how he liked to be touched by listening and paying attention to his reactions.

“If you don’t stop, this is all going to be over a lot sooner than the both of us would like,” he warned.

She chuckled against his mouth before shifting slightly and positioning him at her entrance, and with their amber eyes locked on each other, she sank down onto him. She gasped as he stretched and filled her and her eyes closed against the sensation; it’d been years since her last partner. Parrish gritted his teeth as she squeezed him tightly, her hot, silken walls already fluttering around him.

They both knew neither of them were going to last long.

She forced her eyes to open and lock onto his and she brought her hands to rest on his chest, her nails curling into his skin slightly and he had both hands gripping at her hips as she set the pace and moved over him.

They kept their gazes locked, unable to look away from each other no matter how hard they tried. She could feel his grip tightening to the point of him leaving bruises and he could feel the fiery heat of her hands, and for a small second, he was able to look down at her hands, seeing the flames licking at her fingertips.

“I don’t think I’m going to last much longer,” she breathed out, her voice breathless and whispered.

“Thank God,” he muttered.

He pushed himself until he was sitting up and they were face to face and she moved to wrap her arms around his neck, bringing their bodies flush against each other. Sweat glistened at their skin from their combined body temperatures and Hermione ducked her head to steal a consuming kiss.

Feeling her body heat up, he pulled back to the sight of her surrounded be dancing flames, from her hair right down to her toes, her eyes glowing impossibly bright and her skin flushed. He thought she’d never looked more beautiful and he wondered if this was what others saw when he was in hellhound form. 

A sudden high pitched whine fell from Hermione’s lips and her head tipped forwards as she gently sunk her teeth into his shoulder and her walls clenched around him tightly as she found her release, and with the tightness of her, with the softness of her body and the heat of the fire surrounding her, his own fire spread through his body until he felt the relief it brought as he found his end.

They held onto each other tightly in the silence of the room as they both regained their senses and breathing. A few minutes later they pulled back to look at each other, seeing that their eyes had returned to their normal colouring and Hermione was checking him for injuries caused by her fire, but all she saw was black soot marks in the shape of her hands.

“I told you,” he muttered quietly, before lying on his back and pulling Hermione to lie against him, though she did shuffle so she was no longer draped over him, now she was half on him and half on the bed.

They laid in silence, Hermione listening to his heart beating steadily with her head on his chest and trailing patterns on his stomach with soft, caressing fingers, and Parrish trailing his fingers through her hair and the other hand tracing patterns on her thigh which was hooked over his hip.

“Can I ask you something?” He spoke first.

“Sure, doesn’t mean I’ll answer though.”

He rolled his eyes at her. “Your past boyfriends, how were you able to... well...” He trailed off, not knowing how to phrase it.

“It was very difficult,” she answered, seeing no point in making fun of him or lying to him either. “I had to be careful at all times, it was a lot easier if we were still clothed, without any skin to skin contact I couldn’t hurt them. I learned that the hard way. My friend, Ron, he and I dated for a while,” she spoke, surprising him. “After the war, there were a lot of expectations for him and me to be together and get married and have curly redheaded children running around. When it came to losing my virginity to him, I almost scolded him. And every time after, I made sure we still had clothing on to act as a barrier, not that he cared, he hated looking at my scars,” she said bitterly and he frowned.

“Whenever something would happen, I had to wipe his memory of it, he couldn’t and can’t be trusted with my secret. After almost a year, I couldn’t take it anymore, he was always complaining and whining. He didn’t like that I wanted to work, that I wanted to have a career and do some good in the world before I wanted children. Ronald has a very old fashioned view of the world, the men work and the women stay home and cook and clean and watch the children. It’s what his mother did and it’s what he wanted me to become. We had so many arguments over it,” she sighed.

“I broke up with him. I wasn’t happy and I couldn’t be what he wanted me to be. It’s why he’s so cruel to me now, he believes that I embarrassed him in front of his family and Wizarding Europe. And honestly, the only person that cared we broke up was his mother, everyone else knew we weren’t compatible. There’s been two other wizards but neither of them lasted longer than a few months, I hurt them both and after healing them and wiping their memories of my fire burning them, I’ve pretty much been celibate for the last three years. No one’s been able to handle my fire, no one but you.”

She looked up at him to see he had a thoughtful look on his face.

“What are you thinking about?” She queried.

“That I don’t know you all that well,” he answered.

She raised an eyebrow before shifting away from him and turning on her side and feeling her do so, he turned on his side to face her.

“You think you don’t know me? Jordan,” she caught his attention as his name fell from her lips and he looked into her eyes. “You know me more intimately than anyone ever has after what’s just happened between us. You are the only person I can be myself with. I don’t have to hide who I am, I don’t have to control myself, I don’t have to worry about hurting you with my fire. You know me better than anyone because you know who I really am. Not Hermione Granger the witch, but Hermione Granger, the phoenix. You understand me like no one else can. Harry is my best friend and little brother in everything but blood and has been for over a decade, and you know me better than he does.”

His mouth twitched and he raised his hand to push her hair out of her face, before cupping her cheek, his thumb swiping across her cheekbone.

“It’s been a few weeks since we met each other, but I bet you know more about me than you realise. What’s my favourite colour?”

“Navy blue,” he answered without thought. “You tend to wear it the most and it’s the colour scheme of your room,” he said, his eyes looking to the navy blue walls.

“It is, and I know yours to be red,” she replied.

“How do you know that?” He questioned in surprise.

She smiled and shrugged. “You always choose the red mug from the kitchen cupboard when making coffee, and when using my ink and quills, you always choose the red ink over the blue.”

He frowned, not realising he did those things.

“What’s my preferred drink?”

“Coffee in the morning and through the day and tea in the evening, sometimes fire whiskey or a glass of milk,” he answered knowingly.

She smiled at him. “You prefer coffee all day every day, water and you’ve grown accustomed to fire whiskey. What’s my favourite food or snack?”

“You seem to have a liking for lasagne as Kara brings you it for lunch more often than not, and as for snacks, you eat a lot of candy,” he said amused.

“My parents were dentists, they never let me have candy as a child,” she shrugged, surprising him with her answer.

He hadn’t known her parents were dentists, but then he hadn’t really heard her speak of her parents before. He wondered why that was, but he wouldn’t push the subject now.

“And I know your favourite food is a tossup between the macaroni and cheese you made for me and cheeseburgers, and you like chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast. As for snacks, I find it ironic that you love doughnuts so much.”

He snorted at her and shrugged. “They’re my weakness.”

“So I’ve seen,” she rolled her eyes. “You think that we don’t know a lot about each other, when in reality, we’ve barely been apart these last few weeks and as a result, we’ve grown used to each other’s habits, mannerisms and behaviours. We observe things we don’t realise have any importance until we need that information to answer a question, as we’ve just proved. And like I said, we’ve only known each other a few weeks. You were worried that we hadn’t been on a date, yet people go on dates to spend time together and get to know each other, we do that every hour of every day.”

“I suppose you’re right,” he mused.

“Of course I am, I’m always right.”

She turned away from him and onto her back, stretching her arms above her head languidly and groaning in satisfaction when her muscles pulled and something in her back clicked and she sagged back into the mattress. Turning back towards him, she noticed his eyes trailing the scars on her body.

“Ask me, I know you’re curious.”

His eyes moved up to hers, a guilty smile crossed his face.

“You’re beautiful, with or without scars,” he said truthfully and a faint blush covered her cheeks at his words, pulling a smile from him. “Will you tell me how you got them?” He asked, his fingers moving to trace the largest scar on her torso.

“When I was tortured, Harry and Ron came to rescue me, I was held with a knife against my throat.” She pointed to the thin scar on her throat. “During the battle at the Department of Mysteries, I was fifteen when I was hit by a dark curse that almost killed me.” She gestured to the scar his fingers were softly caressing. “When it was just Harry and me on the run, we walked into a trap and I was forced to jump out of a two-story window, I landed on the shards of glass.” She gestured to the small collection of scars by her hip. “The bite on my thigh is from the werewolf and you know how I got the scar on my arm,” she shrugged.

“You are the strongest, bravest person I’ve ever met,” he muttered.

“There’s plenty of people that are stronger and braver,” she brushed off his comment before her own hand moved to trail his chest. “So, you wanna go again?” He raised an amused eyebrow. “What? I’ve been sexually deprived for the better part of three years.”

He snorted at her before pulling her closer and stealing a kiss.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Page Count: 6

When Parrish woke it was to a fuzzy head and an empty bed. Looking out the window and seeing it dark, it either meant it was really late or really early, he couldn’t be sure. He scrubbed a hand over his face and stretched out his body, muscles that he hadn’t had to use in a while aching as his body worked to ease the pain.

His mind felt strange and he had come to realise it was memories coming back to him, memories that belonged to the hellhound. He closed his eyes and didn’t put up a fight, having learned that it was much less painful and far easier when he did so. He felt a frown of confusion pull at his brow when images of Hermione began to flutter through his mind, memories of them speaking; only he didn’t remember those conversations. He pressed a hand to his head and winced at the dull throbbing pain, and several minutes later, the pain faded and the pieces suddenly slotted into place.

“That’s strange,” he muttered to himself, but he climbed out of bed and decided to go in search of Hermione.

He found his underwear on the floor and quickly slipped them on as he left the room and made his way down the corridor, his mouth twitching when he caught sight of the clothing they’d discarded on the floor in their haste to get to the bedroom.

He found her in the kitchen sitting on the kitchen island counter with her feet swinging back and forth, wearing nothing but a navy blue silk robe which sat at her mid-thigh, her hair a bushy mess since he’d had his hands in it, and with a pint of ice-cream in one hand as she pulled a spoon out of her mouth with the other.

“What are you doing?”

She physically jumped in surprise and almost dropped her ice-cream, which earned him a glare.

“Taking a shower, what does it look like I’m doing?” She rolled her eyes at him.

“Why are you awake?” He asked, moving to stand beside her, his hip brushing her leg.

“I was hungry, we missed dinner,” she shrugged.

“You told Teddy you can’t have ice-cream for dinner,” he said amused. 

“No, I think you’ll find I said he couldn’t have it for _lunch_ , I’m having it for dinner. And anyway, he’s six, I’m a full-grown witch, if I want ice-cream in the middle of the night, then I’ll have ice-cream in the middle of the night.”

He snorted at her and raised an eyebrow when she held the spoon out to him in offering.

“What? I’ve had my mouth and tongue on every inch of your body, there’s no point in being squeamish about catching my cooties.”

He shrugged before opening his mouth and accepting her offering of ice-cream, his tongue darting out to catch the drop that fell from the spoon.

“What is that? It’s really sweet.”

“Caramel fudge,” she shrugged and he rolled her eyes; she had the biggest sweet tooth of anyone he had ever met.

Once she’d put another spoonful into her mouth, he took the ice-cream tub and the spoon from her and put them both off to the side, before moving so he stood between her parted legs and his hands pressed against the counter on either side of her body. He chuckled when she scowled at him and to appease her, he picked up the spoon, scooped up some ice-cream and fed it to her, before putting the spoon back into the tub.

“I remember,” he said suddenly.

“Remember what?” She mumbled around the ice-cream still in her mouth.

“You. I remember everything that happened between you and him.”

Her eyes widened and a guilty looked crossed her face. “Are you mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you?” He questioned.

“Because I didn’t tell you about our interactions. I just, I didn’t want you to panic or to feel as though I was putting pressure on you because of the way your hellhound felt at the time. And to be perfectly honest with you, I didn’t quite understand it myself. I knew that you’d remember eventually but I wanted it to come from the hellhound, not me.”

“I’m not mad at you,” he told her and her entire body sagged in relief. “I understand why you didn’t tell me and you did what you thought was best for me at the time, I can’t be mad for you wishing to protect me, though everything makes sense now.”

“Meaning?”

“Your behaviour changed after your first talk with the hellhound and I couldn’t understand why. You were more attentive towards me, you sat next to me more often than not and you stopped flirting with Norton.”

She bit her lip. “He told me it made him angry, that it hurt both of you when I flirted with him, which is why I made sure to get rid of him for good.”

“Well, whatever you did worked. What did you do?”

“I snogged him.”

“Excuse me?” He said in confusion.

“Right, sorry, I forgot you wouldn’t know the term. I kissed him.”

“What?”

She winced at the slight growl that wrapped around the word and his eyes flashed amber.

“I kissed him, there’s no reason for you to be jealous or worried, I kept my tongue far away from him, I promise. I just kissed him and burned him a little to prove he couldn’t handle my fire. I didn’t actually hurt him, it would’ve just stung for a little while. Like when you touch a teaspoon that you’ve just stirred your coffee with, it stings but it doesn’t leave a mark. And it worked; he’s stopped flirting with me.”

“You do realise he’s claimed you as his, as ours, right?”

She bit her lip and nodded. “I realise that, yes. How do you feel about that? You didn’t really have a choice.”

“I did have a choice, he wouldn’t have taken to you in the way he has if we hadn’t been of the same mind.” Her eyes widened at the meaning. “If we’re being honest with each other, I’ve wanted you from the moment I first laid eyes on you. I was drawn to you, I was curious about you, I wanted to know you.”

“Okay, well since we’re being honest, my phoenix kind of likes you, too.” He raised an eyebrow. “I think it’s the same as your hellhound. They recognised each other for who and what they are, I’m the first of my kind and you’re the last of yours. I guess you could say they’re kindred spirits. I don’t like the thought of you being harmed or injured, which is why I’m so protective of you, and it’s why I reacted the way I did after your fight with Prodigium. I just wanted to take care of you and make sure you were safe and protected and cared for.”

He pushed her hair out of her face and she leaned into his touch.

“We’re strange, aren’t we?”

“Yes,” he said instantly, pulling a smile from her. “But our lives would be boring if we weren’t.”

“I suppose. Now that we’ve gotten that out the way, can I have my ice-cream back now?”

He laughed at her before picking up the tub and giving it back to her and she wasted no time in shoving a spoonful into her mouth.

“So, I was wondering if you’d like to accompany me to a ball,” she spoke around the ice-cream still in her mouth.

“Not if you’re going to eat like that in public,” he replied. She licked the spoon clean before gently smacking at his arm with it and he laughed at her. “So, this ball?”

She groaned. “I _hate_ balls, like truly hate them, but once a year The Ministry has a celebration ball to commemorate the end of the war and all those that we lost. This will be the sixth year so far, and unfortunately, it’s mandatory that I attend.”

“Why?” He asked, amused by her clear dislike at having to attend.

“I’m a Department Head for a start, second of all, I’m a well-known war heroine and lastly, I’m an Order of Merlin: First Class recipient, I _have_ to go.”

“And what is that exactly?”

“Oh, I forgot you wouldn’t know. It’s basically like the magical equivalent to the medal of honour.”

His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. “You have a medal of honour?”

“Unfortunately,” she sighed and he blinked at her dumbly. “You have no idea the responsibility that comes with such an honour, or of the fact that people treat you differently because of it. I didn’t fight in the war to win a bloody medal; I fought because it was the right thing to do. I fought for those that couldn’t do it themselves, for those that had died and for those that would lose their futures and lives should Voldemort have won and gotten his way. I fought for myself and for my family and for my friends. I fought for Harry because I believed in him.”

“You continue to surprise me,” he muttered softly, once more pushing her hair back from her face before she got it caught in the ice-cream she was stuffing in her mouth. “I’ll go with you,” he said. “When is it?”

“This Saturday, but I need you to know, if you accompany me people will talk. There are traditions in the Wizarding World that you may not have heard of in the Muggle World. If a single witch that is not promised to another attends a ball such as this one, with anyone but a brother, uncle or father, you are to be seen as being in a relationship, and should a man dance with a woman a total of three times, it means that you are officially expressing your interest and that you wish to court her.”

“You’re kidding,” he said, surprised.

“I wish, these traditions and ideals aren’t as strong as they once were and should you accompany me, most won’t even batter an eyelash, they’ll just assume that you’re my boyfriend, but the older generations will see it as I’ve explained.”

“So, if I go with you, some will see us as being in a relationship and others will see it as us practically being engaged for marriage?”

“Right in one,” she chirped, slipping the spoon into her mouth once more.

“That’s fine with me,” he shrugged and he pattered her on the back when she choked on her ice-cream in shock.

“What? Have you thought this through?”

“Yes, if you think about it, we’re pretty much a couple anyway.” She stared at him, telling him to continue. “Well, I buy you coffee, you buy me coffee. I buy you lunch, you buy me lunch. I cook you dinner. You cook me dinner. We spend time together at your office and at your apartment. We take walks together and go for ice-cream. And, we’ve travelled through Europe together looking for a murderous creature. If that doesn’t make us a couple, then I don’t know what does.”

“You want to put a label on us?” She questioned, swivelling her spoon between them, gesturing to them both in question.

“Do you?” He raised an eyebrow.

She bit her lip. “I wasn’t sure where things between us were heading, I didn’t want to assume anything and so I didn’t.”

“My hellhound has claimed you as ours with my unwitting knowledge.”

“And phoenix has claimed you as ours with my knowledge.”

“For the time being, they’ve basically staked a claim on each other, so we’re going to be together no matter what, how long a relationship lasts between us, well, only time will tell. It could be months, years, until we die, _if_ we die,” he shrugged.

She huffed, trying to push a piece of hair out her face and he chuckled when she scowled as it fell back into place, and he moved it aside for her.

“Look at me, I go to America to retrieve someone to help me catch a murderous monster, and in only a few weeks I land myself a hellhound for a boyfriend, who’s too handsome for his own good.”

He smirked at her. “Well, look at me, I come to Britain to help someone catch a murderous monster and in only a few weeks I land myself a witch that has the soul of a phoenix for a girlfriend, who’s too beautiful for her own good.”

“Keep saying things like that and I might actually start to believe you.”

“You are beautiful,” he said seriously. “Well, you are when you’re not devouring ice-cream.”

She kicked at his leg and he laughed at her before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer to the edge of the counter so she was pressed against him.

“So, you wanna go for round three?”

“Can I finish my ice-cream first?”

He snorted at her and shook his head. “Why don’t you bring it with you?”

A smirk pulled at her mouth. “My-my, Deputy, you’re kinkier than I thought,” she teased.

He lightly slapped her on the arse and she laughed as he pulled her off the counter and with her arms and legs wrapped around him, he left the kitchen.

“I’m still hungry, you know?”

“I’ll make you something after.”

“And if you fall asleep?” She said amused, bringing the spoon between them and he opened his mouth so she could feed him some ice-cream.

“I won’t,”

“You did last time. You’re supposed to have better stamina than me and you fell asleep before I did.”

“I was tired,” he defended.

“Wore you out, did I?”

“Shut up,” he muttered, crashing his mouth against hers. They barely made it to the bedroom.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Page Count: 11

“Come on, Deputy, up you get,” Hermione spoke, looking down at her newly claimed boyfriend, standing beside her bed with her arms crossed over her chest.

“I’m tired,” he muttered in reply, his voice muffled as his face was pressed into the pillow.

“That’s your own fault, I said we should get some sleep, you were the one that wanted to go again.”

“You didn’t complain.”

“And I’m not complaining now either, you are.”

“I made you hot dogs at two in the morning, surely that constitutes the right for a sleep in.”

“Well, I’ve made you chocolate chip pancakes, and I went out and bought you doughnuts.”

“Donuts?” He lifted his face from the pillow and looked at her.

“Yes, iced doughnuts, sugared doughnuts and those pumpkin-filled doughnuts that you liked. I went all the way to the bakery on the very edge of Diagon Alley whilst you were still sleeping.”

“We’ve been officially boyfriend and girlfriend for only a few hours and you might already be the best girlfriend I’ve ever had.”

She snorted at him. “Well, not if you don’t get up, I’ll eat your doughnuts. Come on, your pancakes are getting cold.” She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek before walking out the room. “I mean it, I really will eat your doughnuts!” She called over her shoulder.

He sighed before climbing out of bed, slipping on his underwear and leaving to the kitchen, seeing a plate of pancakes, a mug of coffee and a box of doughnuts sat on the counter waiting for him.

Hermione looked to be busy; she was sitting in front of the lit fireplace with her legs crossed, her hands resting on her knees, her eyes closed and her back straight. Giving that she looked to be doing some sort of meditation, he didn’t disturb her and he quickly ate his breakfast, feeling himself waking up once he’d finished his coffee and then he left to his room to shower and dress.

When he came back out, Hermione was in the same position as before, only now a map of Europe was laid on the ground and a strange-looking crystal pendent was levitating in the air, the crystal swinging back and forth gently.

Being curious, he moved over to her and crouched down beside her, watching the trance-like movement of the crystal swaying. Barely a few moments later, the crystal suddenly fell and clattered against the map and Hermione’s eyes opened.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

She shushed him and after picking up her wand from beside her, she flicked it at the map and much to his surprise, the image disappeared and was replaced by another map, which looked as though she’d zoomed in on it, like something you’d see when looking at a map online.

“Southampton. I can’t believe it worked,” she spoke with wide eyes.

“What worked? What’s in Southampton?”

She moved her eyes away from the map and to him. “I know you didn’t want me to, but I’ve been searching for Prodigium for the last two hours using blood magic.” A less than pleased look crossed his face. “I was careful, no one will trace the magic back to me should it ever come up,” she told him. “Anyway, it was taking so long because I gave it a large area to search, it could’ve been anywhere in Europe and I had no way to narrow down the search perimeters, but it’s found it. Southampton, that’s where it is. We know where it is and now we can surprise it, take it off guard.”

“That’s risky,” he commented.

“It is, seeing as we don’t know if it’s alone or not, but we have the chance to deal with this once and for all. Prodigium seems to be a nocturnal creature, it only kills at night, if we go now, it won’t be expecting us and we’ll have the upper hand. I’ll have to alert Kingsley but I think he’ll agree with us. This it is, Jordan, this is the opportunity we’ve been waiting for.”

~000~000~000~

“Again, why exactly are we doing this alone?” He asked, as he followed after Hermione as she navigated the maze that was an abandoned shipping port.

Really he had to admit, if this was where the creature had been hiding out all this time, it was quite clever. Not only was it close to The Ministry –what with their ability to teleport and what not- but it was also an abandoned piece of land which looked as though it hadn’t had visitors in years. The perfect place to hide; close by but out of sight.

“First of all, Kingsley wants us to make sure the spell worked and that the location that was revealed was accurate. We need to make sure Prodigium is actually here before we go in spells blazing. Second of all, there’s also the fact that we’re keeping you a secret, if anyone sees you in hellhound form they’ll know what you are and they’ll be too many memories to alter afterwards to keep you safe. And, third all of, how are we going to explain how we knew exactly where Prodigium is without giving away the fact that I used an illegal and archaic form of blood magic?” He titled his head, conceding to her point. “I’m the only one that’s actually been able to injure this creature and live to remember doing so, and you’re a hellhound, who’s better equipped to take it down than us?”

“I still don’t like it,” he told her.

“I’m not particularly happy about it either,” she shrugged. “Now, let’s find it, deal with it and try not to get injured in the process. The ball’s tomorrow and whilst you heal quickly, I don’t.”

He rolled his eyes before taking her hand in his and they continued to navigate the port, checking each building they passed no matter the size. After ten minutes, he stopped and she almost tripped when he pulled on her hand.

“What?” She scowled at him.

“It’s here, I can feel it,” he replied, his eyes not looking at her but darting around, searching his surroundings for any sign of danger.

“Oh, well, maybe you should hellhound up, just in case,” she commented, her own eyes mimicking his actions and searching her surroundings.

He nodded and stepped back from her, removing his leather jacket and his t-shirt and she took them from him, shrunk them down and tucked them into the pocket of her own jacket. He removed his handgun from the waistband of his jeans and handed it over to her, along with the extra bullets -which she now knew how to load- and they went into her pockets, too.

“And your jeans.”

“Excuse me?” He said with a raised eyebrow.

“Take your jeans off, too, they cost more than a month of my wage, and I’m a Department Head, I earn almost one hundred and fifty thousand a year.”

He gave her an amused look before kicking off his trainers and socks and then pulling off his jeans, leaving him in only his underwear. Her eyes roamed his body hungrily and she nodded to herself, before shrinking the rest of his clothing down and slipping them into her pockets, too.

“Alright, you haven’t had the chance to practice without the need for fire, so just remember, clear your mind and think of nothing but fire and flames, of embers and ash. You’ve got fire in you, much like I have. Use the fire within; allow it to be your guide. Think of your hellhound. The more you practice, the easier it will become for you, and before you know it, it’ll be an instantaneous transition.”

She stepped back from him and watched quietly as he closed his eyes and a concentrated frown appeared on his face, his hands clenched into fists and when she thought he was going to get annoyed and give up, his body relaxed and he breathed out slowly, a peaceful look forming on his face.

His eyes opened and she felt herself smile when they were the bright, fiery amber she had come to adore. Flames licked at his fingers and he raised his hands to watch as they grew larger and hotter and they covered more of his body until he was surrounded.

He held his hand out and she stepped forward and took it, feeling the flames caress her skin almost lovingly.

“Well done,” she praised softly.

“It’s this way,” he spoke, his voice deeper, but softer.

She nodded and allowed him to guide her through the maze of buildings, stopping once in a while as he sniffed at the air and then changed directions. She was getting dizzy from all the twists and turns and she had a fleeting thought that they were lost, but she knew she should trust him.

They walked past a building that looked to have been a warehouse, before he stopped them, turned to look at the building over his shoulder and then back-peddled.

“This is it,” he muttered.

“Give me a minute, I’ll see just what we’re dealing with,” she replied, lifting her wand and muttering under her breath before five red dots appeared, as did one black dot that was a lot bigger than the others.

“What does that mean?” He asked, eyeing the way the dots were spread out, as if there were on different levels.

“This building appears to have three floors, the red dots are human, the black is something else entirely.”

“Prodigium,”

“Yes,” she breathed out. “And unlike the others, it’s not moving, it’s probably sleeping. From what I can see, there’s one human on the ground floor with Prodigium, likely guarding it. There’s two on the floor above and two on the roof. They’ll be the lookouts,” she spoke before her eyes widened in realisation and she pulled them away from the building and between two shipping containers, hiding them from view.

“Don’t move from here, they may have already seen us. I’ll be right back.” Before he could question her, she’d turned and apparated, only to reappear minutes later with a bag in her hand. 

“Here’s the plan, I’ll go in first.”

“No, you won’t.”

She rolled her eyes before she tapped her wand to her head and he blinked when she became invisible, he knew she was still there, not only could he feel the presence of her fire, but her hand reached out to touch his arm before she became visible once more.

“That’s a Disillusionment Charm, it’s basically magical camouflage and it takes someone with remarkable observation skills to notice the ripples in the magic. They won’t even know I’m there. Everyone in there is likely to be a wizard or witch, I can eliminate them before we go after Prodigium. I’ll start with those on the roof, I take out their lookouts and they’re blind,” she explained, whilst she took off her jacket, which she followed by unbuttoning her blouse and dropping it to the floor, leaving her half-naked and his head tilted to the side as his fiery eyes trailed her body.

“Focus,” she scolded.

He snapped his eyes back to hers, seeing the scowl on her face, but the amusement in her eyes. She bent down and removed a white t-shirt from the bag and she slipped it on over her head before she kicked off her ankle boots and quickly unbuttoned her jeans and shimmied them down her legs. She pulled out a black pair of skinny jeans and pulled them on, before removing a pair of black leather, knee-high boots and pulling them on her feet. She gathered her hair into one hand and then secured it in a ponytail, before pulling out what looked to be a police utility belt, only with different items he didn’t recognise, and she secured it around her waist. Finally, she removed a set of black robes and slipped them on. She was in warrior mode.

“Once I’ve taken care of the lookouts, I’ll go for the one guarding Prodigium, by this point, the others may be aware of us being here and whilst I deal with them, you can try to fight off Prodigium, and I’ll be with you as soon as possible, it depends how much fight they have in them.”

She picked up her discarded jacket and rifled through the pockets until she found the handgun and bullets and she slipped them into the utility belt, too. Once she was certain she was prepared, she gripped her wand in her hand tightly and then looked to him.

“Wait for my signal before entering.”

“What’s the signal?”

“You’ll know it when you hear it,” she replied before she bounced up on her tiptoes and gave him a chaste kiss. “Be careful,” she said before she tapped her wand to her head and she was no longer visible.

She ran through the maze of shipping containers, putting distance between herself and where the deputy was lying in wait, before she stopped and using the bolts on the doors of the shipping container, she was able to climb on top until she stood on the roof.

“ _Periculum_ ,” she called, a bright red beam of light flying from her wand and into the air, alerting the lookouts to her exact positioning and drawing them to her.

She climbed back to the ground and ducked behind another container, waiting for them to come. Minutes later a dark-robed figure appeared from around the corner as he searched for the one responsible. Despite him having his wand in his hand and being ready for a fight, he didn’t see or hear her until it was too late.

She hit him in the back with a Stunner and he crumpled to the floor. With an _Incarcerous_ she tied the figure to a shipping container and then forced a Sleeping Draught down his throat, effectively preventing him from escaping. She suspected it was a man given the height, but she couldn’t tell due to him having his hood pulled up and he wore a mask, too. It wasn’t a Death Eater mask, but it was similar. She wondered if these people were Death Eater wannabes. She wouldn’t put it past them.

She shook her head and took his wand, slipping it into her boot and then she turned and headed back towards the warehouse. She climbed several containers until she was able to see the layout of the roof, and then she spun on her heel and apparated onto the roof, straight behind the pacing wizard. 

She stunned him, tied him up and poured a Sleeping Draught down his throat, before taking his wand and leaving him. She apparated back to the ground before she snuck around the building until she found a broken window, which she climbed through. With the Disillusion Charm still on her, she crept through the room, around the empty shelving units until a door came into view and there was another figure stood guarding it and this one looked to be a woman. Given that she hadn’t seen Prodigium yet, it must’ve been in the backroom that was being guarded.

Hermione threw a Stunner at the woman but noticing the light in time, she sidestepped it before it hit her, and a duel quickly broke out. The woman was unable to see her positioning so all of her spell work missed her. Hermione knew she had to be quick, if the others on the floor above heard the commotion and came down to help, she’d be outnumbered.

She sent a Tripping Jinx and caught the masked woman around the ankles as she fell and slammed into the ground, crying out in pain. Hermione quickly silenced her before knocking her out and tying her up and taking her wand.

She stood before the door, running her wand over it and checking for any wards and barriers, and sure enough, she found them. They were only basic wards and it wouldn’t be too difficult to remove them, but it would be time-consuming and she didn’t have time on her side. But there was another way around it. If they couldn’t get in through the door, they’d go through the wall.

She took several steps back before pulling out two decoy detonators from her belt, and she activated them and placed them on the ground, allowing them to find their own targets and she made for the stairs at the back for the room.

A loud explosion rang out as the shelving units nearby toppled over, the walls of the warehouse shook, dust settled in the room and a large hole was blasted in the wall. Fear coursed through her when she heard a roar echo in the silence that came after the explosion, but then a second noise was heard.

Relief flooded her when the large monstrous creature stumbled from the room looking disorientated, and then a flaming figure came bursting through a window, running straight at the creature, slamming into it and sending it flying across the room. Knowing that she needed to deal with the others before she could help her hellhound, she reluctantly turned and ran up the stairs, the door to the next floor slamming open and she was forced to erect a shield as she was attacked by a barrage of spells.

She dived off to the side and ducked behind an old desk, peering over the top to see two figures, both male she’d guess, slowly approaching to where they had her cornered. She took a deep breath before pointing her wand at the desk, and with a whispered spell, the desk went flying across the room, slamming into one of the figures and the other was able to move out of the way.

She jumped up and started throwing spells of her own; she was now on the offensive and that was when she was most dangerous.

 _“Incarcerous! Stupefy! Flipendo!”_ She called, each spell bouncing off the man’s shield, and she ducked behind a second desk when he sent a Slicing Hex at her.

“ _Bombarda!”_

She couldn’t get away quickly enough and the desk she was hidden behind suddenly exploded, sending her slamming into the wall behind her and shrapnel of wood cut her forehead and her stomach, blood beginning to run down her face and soaking through her t-shirt.

“I’m at a bloody ball tomorrow night!” She said in outrage, glaring at the figure as she threw a nasty Stinging Hex his way before she’d even climbed to her feet.

She pressed her left hand against her stomach, trying to stem the bleeding and her right hand gripped her wand tightly. She stood tall and proud, her eyes filled with amber fire and her skin flushed pink in her anger. She wasn’t just angry. She was furious.

“ _Confringo!_ ” She called.

The robed man threw up a shield but she hadn’t aimed for his chest, she aimed lower, more specifically towards the ground. His robes caught fire and he let out a shout as the fire grew hotter and quickly devoured his robes, and whilst he was busy trying to stomp it out, she flung a body-bind at him, and blasted him with an _Aquamenti_ to put out the flames before they burnt him. She tied him up, as well as the other unconscious figure and she took both their wands, before quickly making her way back down to the warehouse floor when she heard the roars and growls echoing, the sound travelling.

She stood on the staircase, glad to see that her hellhound only appeared to have a few claw marks on his arms and chest, but was otherwise uninjured. She ran down a few more steps and whilst her hellhound and Prodigium were wrestling on the ground, clawing and biting and snarling at each other, Prodigium had its back to her. She pulled the gun from her belt and she had no time to panic or overthink things. She simply aimed the gun, took a breath and pulled the trigger.

Prodigium let out a roar as the bullet sunk in-between his shoulders blades, and whilst it may have hurt, it wasn’t enough to draw his attention and it only seemed to make it angrier. Given that it was a much bigger target than the one at the firing range, each shot she fired never once missed her target and each bullet sunk into the back of the monstrous creature. With each shot, Prodigium would release a roar but never turn towards her, until she fired the last bullet in the gun and it hit it in the back of its neck.

Prodigium turned and roared at her before it charged straight towards her. She knew she wouldn’t have time to reload the gun, so she dropped it to the ground in favour of using her magic to defend herself. Prodigium leapt off the ground and over to the staircase she stood on and there was no chance of her running down them fast enough to dodge it, so she steeled her nerves and slipped through the bars of the metal railing, falling to the ground until she landed on her feet and luckily it hadn’t been that high of a fall. Just as she leapt off the staircase, Prodigium landed on it and the metal shook and rattled against the heavyweight.

She slowly back-peddled when it leapt off the staircase and to the ground, roaring loudly before charging at her.

“ _Sectumsempra_!” She called.

She hit it square in the chest and cuts appeared, adding to the collection of bleeding claw marks that had been caused by her hellhound. The creature stumbled slightly, but quickly righted itself and she sent another _Sectumsempra_ at it. When it stumbled for a second time, a bright ball of fire suddenly collided with it, sending the creature smashing through the wall and out into the open.

“Shit!” She cursed. “You have to get it back inside!” She yelled, hoping her hellhound would hear and understand her, and sure enough, barely a few moments later, a second hole was smashed into the wall as they both stumbled back into the warehouse.

They tumbled and wrestled on the ground, and despite Prodigium being far bigger than him, her hellhound was holding his own, slashing and clawing and biting and punching. Hermione brought her hands to her ears when the creature howled as its fur caught fire under her hellhound and she suddenly had an idea on how to kill it.

As the creature bolted away from her hellhound and stumbled back, howling and snarling and trying to put out the fire, she ran our over to her hellhound as he got up from the ground and looked as though he were about to charge at it, but she stopped him.

“Hold it down and when I tell you to, get the hell out of the way. Quickly, it’s distracted.”

He didn’t question her and he raced after it, throwing himself towards him and aiming for the legs as he tackled the flailing creature to the ground. Hermione ran after him and waited until it was pinned down before striking.

“ _Fiendfyre_ ,” she whispered.

She was mesmerised as the hot fire shot out of her wand and surrounded her, moving like it was possessed by the devil himself. She directed it towards the snarling creature, the flames all too happy to have something to devour.

“MOVE!” She shouted.

Just before the flames reached them, her hellhound sprang back and out of the way, his headed tilted to the side as he watched the creature being consumed by the demon fire and it howled and snarled in agony. Her nose burned with the smell of burnt flesh, her stomach rolled and she had to force herself not to throw up. When the agonised sounds died down and the only sounds were that of the cracking and spitting fire, she reined it back in before it burnt the creature to ash, leaving behind a badly burned corpse. The fire swarmed around her once more and then disappeared, leaving a trail of smoke and a pile of ash that had once been a shelving unit.

Her breathing was heavy and laboured, her chest heaved with every breath she took and sweat slicked her skin. Her hair was a mess, half of it still in the bobble and the rest had fallen out. Her entire body ached and her muscles felt tired, and she allowed her wand arm to drop by her side as her head titled forward and she looked down at the ground.

She saw the shadows on the ground and when she looked up, her hellhound was stood before her, his claws and fangs retracting as he took her face in his hands and his eyes trailed over her worriedly.

“You are hurt,” he spoke, his voice sounding worried and pained.

“So are you,” she replied, her breathing still a little heavy. He had several large claw marks covering his chest and stomach, a few on his arms and legs and a small set of claw marks on his face.

“I will heal.”

“I’ll be fine once I’ve been treated,” she said, bringing her left hand up to her stomach once more and putting pressure on the wound, which only seemed to worry him more as he gently swiped his thumb over the wound on her forehead, wiping away the blood.

She pulled back from him and moved over to the wall, sliding down it until her arse hit the floor and he followed after her, moving to sit beside her and he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to lean against him.

“You fought beautifully, my warrior Goddess,” he spoke, placing a kiss to the top of her hair.

“You didn’t see me fight, not really.”

“I know you took out five assailants by yourself and I saw you fight the creature. You, my Queen of Fire, were a sight to behold.”

“You weren’t so bad yourself,” she responded. An amused smile pulled at his face. “Are you in any pain?”

“No, it is why I stay in this form, I heal much faster but I also do not feel pain.”

“I need you to change back, I’ve got to contact Kingsley so he may send the crime scene unit to collect the body and clean up the mess. We can’t let them see you. Once we get out of here, you can change back to heal if you wish to.”

“I do not like the thought of leaving you unprotected.”

“Prodigium is dead and the ones aiding it are incapacitated.”

He still didn’t look pleased but he nodded. His eyes closed and moments later, the fire surrounding him was gone and so was the fiery amber of his eyes. The deputy’s eyes snapped open and a shout of pain tore from the back of his throat. She summoned the belongings she’d left outside the warehouse and dug into the bag, pulling out a Pain Relief Potion which she tipped down his throat and the moment the liquid settled in his stomach, his hands unclenched and his body sagged into the wall and his face relaxed. Now that she could see the wounds on his human form, they were far worse than she realised, no longer were they pouring lava and ash, but instead blood and a lot of it. A terrified look crossed her face.

“I’m fine, Hermione,” he mumbled tiredly. “I’m already healing, I can feel it and whatever you’ve just given me has removed the pain, it just feels numb.” She looked unconvinced and he brought his hand up to cup her cheek. “I will be healed soon enough. What of your injuries?” He asked, his eyes looking just as worried as the hellhound’s had.

“They’re not life-threatening, the adrenaline’s still flooding my system so I can’t really feel the pain at the moment. One of the arseholes upstairs blew up the desk I was ducked behind, the shrapnel caught my head and stomach, but once I’ve been seen to, I’ll be fine. I’m going to contact Kingsley now, when they get here we can leave.”

He nodded tiredly and watched as she fished out a strange looking device and she flicked the switch, a red light beginning to flash. She dropped it to the ground and leaned back into the wall.

“So, ready to go home?”

“I can’t wait to just crawl into bed,” he sighed, tilting his head back slightly.

They both heard a noise and turned their heads to see that the masked woman had broken free from her restraints and the spells had worn off, and without a wand, she stumbled to her feet and charged straight at them, her intent to kill them evident.

“Oh, piss off,” Hermione sighed, flicking her wand at the woman and she was sent flying back into the wall until she collapsed to the ground in an unconscious pile. “What?” She asked, seeing his amused expression.

“Nothing, I would just hate to get on your bad side,” he commented.

Several thuds pulled their attention as the door to the warehouse was suddenly pulled open and a crowd of wizards and witches flooded in; Aurors, healers, workers from the RCMC Department, Unspeakables and The Minister himself. They all took in the sight before them horrified; the state of the warehouse and the monstrous creature that had been terrorising their people and their world for nearly four months. The creature that had killed over two hundred innocent people for no reason other than to do so.

Kingsley was the first to notice them both slumped against the far wall and he rushed over to them. He knelt down beside Hermione and took her hand in his, looking at her worriedly.

“Don’t worry about me, Kings, you can’t get rid of me that easily,” she grinned tiredly. “And unfortunately, I’ll still be attending the ball tomorrow evening.”

The worry on his face eased slightly and a small smile appeared. “I know that must pain you so.”

She nodded. “Almost as much as these wounds, the adrenaline’s wearing off and the pain’s kicking in, but I’ll be fine.”

His eyes fell to her boyfriend and they turned wide with horror and guilt.

“I’m fine,” the deputy waved him off. “I’ll heal, my body’s already started the process; I can feel it. Hermione gave me a potion for the pain, I can’t feel anything.”

“With the aid of magic, that process might just speed up a little further,” Kingsley replied, before signalling for the healers and two rushed over to them, their eyes staring at the both of them horrified until Kingsley snapped at them to get a move on.

Their professional masks slipped back into place as they each set to waving their wands over them, running tests and checking for other injuries, before they set to casting Healing Charms, covering their wounds in thick pastes and then wrapping them up tightly with gauze and bandages. They tried to convince them to go back to the hospital with them, but they both declined and Kingsley shooed them away.

“There’s two on the floor above, both of them are unconscious. There’s one on the roof and you’ll find another tied to a shipping container about three hundred feet west from here, they’re both asleep, and then there’s that crazy bitch over there,” she gestured with her head and he turned to look over his shoulder at the slumped figure as Aurors restrained and prepared her for transportation.

“I doubt there is much I can say to either of you for your hard work and the danger you put yourselves in to protect our people, but thank you. The Wizarding World owes you a great debt.”

“My pleasure, I’m just glad it’s finally over,” Parrish spoke.

“And on that note, I think we both just want to go home, rest and heal.”

“Of course, you more than deserve it. I will have someone escort you home for your safety. And if you do not feel up to attending the ball, I will understand,” Kingsley said.

“You’re giving me a pass?” She questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“Just this once,” he chuckled.

He motioned for two Aurors to come over and he gave them orders to get them home safely. They eyed Parrish strangely, given that he was only dressed in his underwear and Hermione had to stifle her giggles as he scowled at her. She summoned his handgun and slipped it into the bag with the rest of their belongings before they were both apparated to The Leaky Cauldron and shuffled into the floo before anyone could notice them.

As soon as they stepped into her apartment, they both breathed a sigh of relief.

“Bed?”

“Bed,” he nodded, taking her hand in his and she had to support him as he stumbled in his steps, but already his wounds looked a little better.

He climbed into Hermione’s bed and sighed at the softness of her mattress, and she stripped out of her clothing and pulled on a clean baggy t-shirt before crawling into bed beside him, and they both fell asleep clutching at the other’s hand. 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Page Count: 10

When Hermione woke, moonlight was streaming through the window, the room was dark and the empty space beside her was cold. Pushing herself up into a sitting position, she winced against the sharp pain that shot through her stomach and she looked down, lifted her t-shirt and saw the bandages with several red blood spots which had leaked through. She sighed before throwing the covers off herself, climbing out of bed and making her way towards the kitchen, intent and getting some food to quieten her rumbling stomach.

“How long have you been up?” She questioned the deputy, when she saw the lit fire in the fireplace and he was sat in the armchair reading a book.

He was wearing a clean pair of underwear and a pair of tracksuit bottoms and given he was no longer covered in bloodstains and black soot, she knew he’d showered, too. Her eyes trailed his naked torso, glad to see that his wounds had almost fully healed, leaving him with only a few small cuts.

He looked up from his book and a smile pulled at his mouth before he closed the book and reached over to set it on the coffee table.

“About an hour,” he answered.

He took her hand in his when she neared him and he tugged gently, pulling her to sit in his lap where she curled herself up against him and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. She sighed as his heat surrounded her.

“Given that we’d fallen asleep not long after lunch, when I woke I couldn’t get back to sleep. I didn’t want to wake you so I showered in my room and came to the kitchen for a snack.”

“You ate the doughnuts, didn’t you?” She said knowingly.

“I may have done,”

“Seriously, Deputy? I bought three boxes. You ate one yesterday, leaving two. You ate them all in one sitting?”

“No, of course I didn’t. I ate a box at the counter and the other box whilst reading.”

She snorted at him and shook her head lightly, moving until her ear pressed over his heart and she could hear his steady heartbeat. Despite how much sleep she’d obviously had, she still felt tired, the fight and her injuries wiping her out.

“How’s your stomach?” He asked, seeing that the cut on her forehead was now only a scratch.

She pulled back from him and lifted her shirt to show him the bandages with a few blood spots and a worried frown crossed his face.

“It hurts like hell and it’s really itchy, that’s the pastes working to seal up the wound and fight off infection. Hopefully, it’ll be better before the ball, my gown’s costing a bloody fortune and if it gets stained with my blood, I’m going to be pissed. I’ll be visiting those arseholes in their prison cells and it won’t be pleasant.”

He chuckled at her. “So, what are you wearing to this ball?”

“You’ll have to wait and see, and you better appreciate it, it’s not going to be often you’ll see me wearing a ball gown.”

“Alright,” he said amused. “And what exactly am I wearing, I don’t have anything ball worthy?”

“Already taken care of; I owled Kara yesterday when you were still in bed. She’s getting everything sorted for you, your tux won’t be handmade like my gown as we don’t have time, but with her knowing your measurements, she’ll make sure it’ll be perfectly tailored to you, she’s a talented seamstress.”

Her stomach gave a loud rumble and he chuckled at her.

“Hungry?”

“Starving,” she confirmed.

“I’ll make you something, what do you want? Lunch or dinner since we slept straight through both, or given it being the early hours of the morning, do you want breakfast?”

“Surprise me,” she shrugged.

She climbed off him and he stood and made his way to the kitchen as she curled up on the armchair once more. He returned to her not fifteen minutes later with a plate of scrambled eggs on toast and a glass of milk. She ate quickly before moving so she could climb back onto his lap and she snuggled against him as he wrapped her up in his arms and read aloud from his book. When she fell asleep, he put down his book and carried her back to bed, climbing in beside her and holding her as she slept.

~000~000~000~

They spent all day barely leaving the bed, if only to eat and use the bathroom. All day they did nothing but cuddle, read aloud to each other, laugh and talk, learning more about each other.

When it came time to ready for the ball, she met Kara in Diagon Alley and retrieved her dress and his tuxedo, before returning to the apartment. She kicked him out of her room and with strict instructions not to come anywhere near her bedroom, so she could ready.

She jumped in the shower first, making sure to wash off all traces of blood from her body, and she washed her hair and shaved her arms and legs before she ran herself a relaxing bath filled with bubbles, a Muscle Relaxant and some scented oils. Reluctantly she climbed out of the bathtub and she spelled her hair and body dry, before scrutinising the wound on her stomach. It still hadn’t healed but it had stopped bleeding, so she wouldn’t run the risk of ruining her gown, but just in case, she covered her wound in some gauze and spelled it so it would stay in place.

She quickly applied a little mascara, making her lashes thicker and darker, and she put on a little glittery eye shadow before applying red lipstick to her mouth, the colour contrasting against her pale skin.

She had to use a little magic to help her with the gown, and she slipped into her heels before sorting out her mass of curls, putting it up in an elaborate up-do with some curls falling to frame her face. She slipped her wand into the holster tied around her thigh and then she stepped back to look herself over in the mirror.

She had to admit, the seamstress had done a wonderful job with the gown, even if she did feel it showed a little more skin than she was usually comfortable with. Rather than the gown being the intended purple colour, it was now a beautiful amber, amber that matched her own eyes as well as the deputy’s and it suited her skin tone well.

The gown was perfect for her. It had halter style straps that wrapped around her throat like a choker and the silk fabric met just above her breasts, with a slit between the valley of her breasts. The gown conformed to her figure before synching in at the waist and flaring out the tiniest bit at her hips and falling down to the ground like a silky wave. The gown was backless and stopped at the small of her back, fitting over her bum and then flaring out with a small train that trailed behind her. Up the right side of her leg, she had a slit in the gown that stopped just shy of her underwear, though it was only noticeable when she walked. Her silver strappy heels matched the bracelet around her wrist and the small dangle earrings she wore.

Knowing there wasn’t much more she could do, she took solace in the silence around her, knowing she wasn’t going to experience such a thing for several hours. She left her room, her footsteps echoing through the apartment as she made her way to the living room, to see her deputy standing out on the balcony and watching the sun slowly beginning its descent.

Hearing her approaching, he turned towards her with a smile on his face which was quickly wiped off as his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open as he stared at her, speechless.

Seeing as his eyes were raking over her, she felt it only fair she returned the favour, and he looked devastatingly handsome. His black tuxedo fit him perfectly, wrapping around the muscles of his shoulders and arms. His white shirt was wrinkle-free and a bow tie was fastened around his neck and tucked under the collar of his shirt, whilst black dress shoes finished off the look. She caught sight of a watch on his wrist that she knew she hadn’t seen before, so she summarised Kara had purchased it for him. 

“Hello, handsome,” she chirped, continuing in her steps towards him.

“Hermione, you look... well... I don’t know what to say,” he replied, taking her hand in his and rubbing his thumb over her knuckles soothingly.

“You being speechless? Well, that’s all the compliment I need,” she said with a teasing smile.

He shook his head and a smile formed on his face. “An owl dropped this off,” he said, removing a small envelope from his pocket and handing it to her.

“It’s a port-key,” she said, taking it from him. He groaned and she chuckled at him. “It’s the only way into the Ministry, all floo networks into the building will be shut off and security’s going to be tight tonight. The ball is open to anyone who wishes to attend, however, the evening meal is only for those with invitations,” she gestured to the one in her hand.

“And who gets an invitation?” He asked.

“The Minister, High ranking Ministry officials, celebrities, wealthy families, and those that are recognised for fighting in the war. So you’re going to meet the Weasleys tonight, including Ronald. He’s an arsehole, please don’t punch him, we can’t have you in the papers for assault after only a day of being my boyfriend.” He shrugged his shoulders, not promising her anything. “When the evening meal ends, the public will be allowed entrance, they’ll be dancing and speeches and then we can escape.”

~000~000~000~

“You people go all out,” he said, his eyes scanning the large ballroom they’d just entered.

And it really was large, being even bigger than the great hall at Hogwarts. Extravagant chandeliers hung from the ceiling, orbs of glowing light and fairies flittered above, swatches of silk and satin lined the walls and an orchestra of charmed musical instruments played a gentle melody on the large stage. Round tables covered with lace detailed table cloths and padded chairs covered most of the room, and people were milling about and conversing, whilst others had already found their seats.

“We’re over here,” she spoke, pulling him through the crowds of people and manoeuvring around the tables. “I’m always sat at the table that’s at the front of the ballroom, giving that I’m an Order of Merlin recipient and a Department Head. Kingsley will be sat with us, as well as the other department heads, and Harry will be with us too, and unfortunately, so will Ronald.”

Their table was almost full but for five chairs, and Harry smiled and stood upon their approach.

“You look stunning,” he complimented, pulling her into a gentle hug and placing a kiss to her cheek.

“Thank you, and you look quite nice in your monkey suit,” she replied, causing him to snort at her whilst she righted his bow tie. “Harry, you remember, Jordan.”

“Of course, it’s nice to see you again,” Harry spoke, shaking Parrish’s hand.

“Likewise,” he replied with a friendly smile, and when he pulled his hand back, he wrapped his arm around Hermione’s waist. Harry raised an eyebrow.

“You see, we’re sort of dating,” she said with a sheepish smile.

Harry snorted. “I figured and I’m not surprised, I suspected it would happen.” She raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t elaborate. “Are you sure he can handle your fire?” He said, trying to be discreet with the look he gave her and she laughed at him, whilst Parrish shook his head.

“Harry, Jordan’s different.”

“Seriously, Hermione, I saw what your last relationship did to you,” he said, giving her a worried look.

She smiled at him softly, touched by his concern. “Harry, trust me, Jordan’s different. Why do you think I went all the way to America for his help? He’s like me.”

His eyes widened and he leaned in closer, so no one would overhear them. “ _Like_ _you_?”

“Not in that way, not exactly like me, but he is different like me. He can handle my fire, I can’t hurt him and he can’t hurt me.”

He frowned in confusion. “So what is he?”

“I can’t tell you, not because I don’t trust you because we both know I do, but I need to keep him safe, he’s a one of kind like me, and he needs to be protected, if it were to get out what he is, the results would be devastating. Will you please just accept that I’m happy in my life?”

The frown didn’t leave his face but he nodded. “I’m just looking out for you, I only want the best for you.”

“I know,” she smiled. “So, where’s that beautiful wife of yours?” She questioned, not seeing the lively redhead at the table or mingling with the crowd.

“At home with James and Albus, Albus’ has the stomach flu and Gin’s not feeling too well either.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow and an amused smile pulled at her mouth. “Not feeling well as in she’s got the flu, or not feeling well as in she’s pregnant?”

His mouth dropped open and his eyes widened. “Merlin, I hope she isn’t. She’s been off for a few weeks now, but I can’t handle another child, those boys are already a handful, I can’t have another one yet.”

They both laughed at him as a panicked look crossed his face.

“Well, if she is pregnant it needs to be a girl; I need a little niece in my life to spoil rotten.” He scowled at her and she sniggered. “Relax, if she is pregnant, you’ll both do fine, you’re doing a wonderful job with the boys. When you get home tonight just have her cast the Pregnancy Charm, and you can deal with the results then, but right now, I need you.”

He took a breath and closed his eyes tightly before nodding. “Right, with Ron,” he said knowingly and they all took their seats at the table.

The crowd started taking their seats, signalling that the welcome speech would soon be starting, and as usual, Ron arrived at the last minute with an irritable looking Susan Bones on his arm.

His eyes immediately snapped to her once he’d taken his seat and his eyes narrowed seeing her handsome boyfriend sat beside her. Before he could speak, Kingsley took to the stage.

“Witches and Wizards, we hold the annual celebration ball so we may remember those that we lost and those that fought and survived, so we may celebrate their lives and the sacrifices to our world and people, so we may all live our lives with the freedom to make our own choices and so we may do so safely, without fear of rejection or punishment. A toast, to the heroes of our world,” Kingsley spoke with his wand pressed against his throat, the Sonorous Charm amplifying his voice so it may be heard by all.

Glasses of champagne appeared on the table in front of her everyone and they all raised their glasses high in silence, before taking a sip from the glass.

“Tonight we remember and we celebrate, tonight we rejoice and we think on our actions, we think of ways to make our world a better place and we ensure that only the best is given for future generations.”

Applause rang out and Kingsley stepped down from the stage and took his seat at the table, and once he was settled, their meals appeared before them and everyone tucked in.

“So, Hermione?”

Hermione looked away from her quiet conversation with her boyfriend and to Ron, putting a tolerant smile on her face.

“Yes, Ronald?” She questioned politely.

Parrish wasn’t blind to the way Hermione seemed to stiffen and Harry shot a look of warning to the redhead.

“I haven’t seen you at The Burrow for a while,” he spoke, a cruel smile pulling at his mouth.

Hermione flinched slightly and Parrish moved to hold her hand under the table, feeling her gripping at him tightly as he narrowed his eyes at her ex-boyfriend.

“Unfortunately, Ronald, I have been kept rather busy with my work that I barely have time to myself. Running a Department of eight divisions is not easy, especially when you are a young woman that has to face sexism from your division heads.”

Parrish felt a smile pull at his mouth and Harry looked at her proudly, too, whilst the redhead looked angry at being reminded of her successful career, after all, he’d wanted her to give it up to be a housewife.

In reality, Hermione had stopped going to The Burrow for the monthly family dinners as since her breakup with Ron, she’d been made to feel less than welcome by his overbearing mother, who still hadn’t gotten over the fact she wasn’t getting Hermione as a daughter-in-law.

“Who’s he?” He questioned, rudely pointing to him.

“Oh, Jordan, this is Ronald, Ronald, this is Jordan, my boyfriend,” she spoke.

Ron choked on the food he’d stuffed into his mouth and his date give him a disgusted look before turning away to converse with the older man that sat next to her.

“Boyfriend? Really?” He turned his eyes back to him, and somehow, he just knew the next words out of his mouth were going to be an insult. “So, what’s it like dating someone like her?”

“Someone like her?” He replied confused, noting the way the redhead seemed surprised by his accent.

“Yeah, ya know, a cold-hearted bitch that’s as boring and frigid as a nun.”

Fire sparked in Hermione’s eyes and he squeezed her hand gently, whilst trying to fight off his own anger, his hellhound wasn’t helping matters either, whispering ways in which they could kill the redhead and dispose of his body without anyone knowing. Harry shot a murderous look to the redhead, griping his fork in his hand tightly until his knuckles went white.

Parrish schooled his features and settled a slightly confused frown on his face. “Do you call her such names because that’s what you truly believe, or do you do so because you’re angry that not only did she break up with you for the entire world to see, but also because she refused to conform to your sexist and stereotypical views of how women should behave?”

Ron’s eyes blazed with fury, Hermione’s mouth parted in surprise and Harry let out a startled laugh.

“You know what, I take back everything I said to you and secretly thought about you, too. I like you,” Harry spoke, pushing his glasses further up his nose and giving him a nod of respect.

Parrish smiled at him and nodded in return before turning his eyes back to the redhead, who’s face was slowly beginning to match his hair. 

“I can tell you have a problem with Hermione, which I can’t understand as I was led to believe you were friends, and in my experience, calling your friend such names and doing so in front of her colleagues is not only a jack ass move but shows your desperation to punish her for having a successful career. Are you jealous of her?”

Ron clenched his fork in his hand and looked as though he were restraining himself from reaching for his wand. Parrish didn’t care.

“And seeing as you’re curious about my relationship with Hermione, we haven’t been together long, but what I do know is there’s not a mean bone in her entire body, she’s the bravest, kindest person I’ve met and she goes out of her way to help anyone that needs it. She suffers harassment from an ill old man, she has to put up with disrespectful workers who have a problem with having a woman as their superior, she deals with men that can’t seem to understand that she has no interest in them and she deals with high profile, stressful cases, and she doesn’t let it get to her. I know that when she leaves here tonight, she won’t remember a single bad word you said against her, because I’m going to make sure she’s otherwise distracted.”

Harry hid a laugh behind his hand, Hermione had to fight down the blush, Susan Bones giggled and Ron’s anger was close to boiling point.

“Mr. Weasley, spell casting of any kind is forbidden in The Ministry this evening, should you attempt to do so, you will be forcefully removed from the premises,” Kingsley’s deep voice spoke up, and he sent a wink Hermione’s way.

~000~000~000~

The rest of their meal passed quickly and before either of them knew it, the tables had been banished except for a few, the dance floor was clear and a makeshift bar had been set up with a barman to mix and pour the drinks, and the ball was open for the public and crowds of people poured in.

Hermione had officially introduced him to George and his fiancée, Angelina, he’d met Percy and his wife, Audrey, and he’d met Bill and his wife, Fleur. She’d introduced him to a few Ministry officials but that hadn’t been by choice, it seemed every time they turned around there was someone who wanted to talk to her, ask for a photograph or for an autograph.

And he soon understood what she’d meant when she warned him of the traditions of the Wizarding World, as he received more than a few strange glances from the older crowd. They spent most of their time with Harry, squirrelled away in a corner and out of sight. He caught sight of an old woman dressed in strange clothing and a terrifying hat, approaching them and being escorted by a younger man. Given their similarities in appearance, he assumed he was her Grandson.

“Harry, Hermione!” The man called.

“Neville,” Hermione smiled brightly, quickly hugging him and pecking him on the cheek, and moving aside so Harry could greet him.

“Ms. Longbottom, it is lovely to see you as always,” Hermione spoke, pressing a kiss to the strict looking woman’s cheek.

“Miss. Granger,” she replied, her eyes narrowing when Hermione stepped back and moved over to him. He shifted on his feet under her frightening gaze, despite the fact that Harry was greeting her. “And who is this young man?”

“Neville, Ms. Longbottom, this is Jordan.”

“It’s nice to meet you both,” he spoke, shaking the man’s hand as well as the frightening woman’s, not feeling comfortable in getting close enough to kiss her cheek.

She pursed her lips, apparently not pleased by something. “You are courting?”

He almost choked on his intake of oxygen.

“We are not courting, Ms. Longbottom, but we are spending time together, getting to know each other before we decide whether or not a relationship between us would be successful,” Hermione lied.

Her eyes narrowed further and she made a noise of displeasure. “I trust you are not having sexual relations.”

“Gran!” Her Grandson protested, sounding as though he’d heard that one too many times that evening, and Parrish supposed he probably had.

“Of course not, Ms. Longbottom, sex before marriage is a sin,” she replied with an innocent smile and he had to fight off a laugh.

“There is hope for you yet, Miss. Granger,” the old woman spoke, before leaving them alone and her Grandson followed after her, sending them an apologetic look as he left.

“Sex before marriage is a sin, really Hermione?” Harry laughed at her. “You’re lucky she didn’t realise you were taking the mick.”

“It’s not my fault she’s so set in her traditional views that she’s downright rude and judgemental. I’ve heard whispers that she wasn’t all that innocent when she married her first husband and if that’s true, I’m not taking advice from a hypocrite,” she said. Harry snorted at her before excusing himself to use the bathroom. “So, shall we have a dance and then get out of here?” Hermione turned towards him, and he was all too happy to agree when he spotted a cluster of older women heading their way.

~000~000~000~

“I’m tired,” he spoke as they entered her apartment and he sat on the armchair, and she walked over to the kitchen to retrieve a spoon and the ice-cream.

“Well don’t be falling asleep,” she spoke, hopping up onto the counter and her feet swayed back and forth gently.

“Why not?” He questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“You promised me a distraction.”

His mouth twitched into a smile and he stood from his seat and walked over to her. “How’s your stomach?”

“It’s not hurting, that’s likely due to the alcohol I’ve consumed and it’s taking the edge off, but I doubt I’ll be able to move too much without ripping open the wound again; then I’m back to square one. So, if you’re going to keep your promise, you’ll have to be on top,” she shrugged, licking the spoon clean after putting a spoonful of ice-cream into her mouth.

He raised an amused eyebrow. “Are you always this...Open?”

“Probably, you think I’m bad now, just you wait until we’re so comfortable around each other that I’ll happily burp and fart in front of you.”

He burst out laughing; he couldn’t stop it from happening even if he tried.

“God, you’re going to be a handful, aren’t you?” He said through his laughter.

“Yep,” she replied, making sure to emphasise the ‘p’. “But I like to think that means I’m keeping you on your toes.” She tilted her head to the side and then held out the spoon in an offering, which he accepted.

“You’ve got a thing for ice-cream, haven’t you?”

She shrugged. “You’ve got your doughnuts, I’ve got my ice-cream; it’s my weakness. If I’m ever in a mood with you, give me chocolate ice-cream and I’ll be your best friend for life.” He snorted at her. “So, are you keeping your promise because, to be honest with you, I’ve been wanting to peel you out of that tux all night, and if we had been left alone, I would’ve convinced you to ravish me in an empty supply closet.”

“What am I going to do with you?” He shook his head, fighting off his laughter.

“Well, if you don’t plan on shagging me silly, you can sleep in your own room tonight.”

He laughed at her before taking away the spoon and ice-cream tub and moving closer to kiss her.

They never made it to the bedroom.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Page Count: 7

“Morning,” a groggy voice spoke against her shoulder.

“Hmm,” she hummed in reply, lifting her hands above her head to stretch out her body and she sighed when she heard something click.

“So, I know this isn’t the time to have this conversation, but I’ve been thinking.”

“About?” She asked, turning around to face him and he gave her a smile and pushed her hair out of her face.

“The case is over,” he muttered.

A frown pulled at her face when the realisation struck her. “Oh, I suppose it is, you have to go back to America,” she spoke, trying to keep her voice emotionless, not wanting him to know how much she actually wanted him to stay, but she couldn’t ask that of him.

“And that’s what I’ve been thinking about. What if I didn’t go back?”

“What?” She said, blinking in surprise.

“What if I didn’t go back to America, what if I stayed here, in London?” She frowned and made to speak, but he spoke first. “Listen, this isn’t a random decision, I’ve been thinking about it for the last week or so, before we even became a couple. My life in Beacon Hills, it was strange and hectic and loud, and I was needed there. I was drawn there by the nemeton, by its power. But now all the supernatural happenings have died down and they don’t need me anymore. I have nothing for me in America, my friends are teenagers that are leaving for college after the summer, and I’ll be stuck at the station with idiots like DeWitt. I’m good at my job, but it’s not the same as it once was and hasn’t been for a while now. Coming here with you, I’ve realised how unhappy I was in Beacon Hills and now that everyone’s moving on to better things and places, I need to, too.”

“So you’re not thinking about this because of me?” She questioned slowly.

“It’s not just because of you,” he said honestly. “But you do factor into the equation, my hellhound’s been a little restless since we killed Prodigium, because he knows we have to go back and he doesn’t want to leave you, _I_ don’t want to leave you. We could always try giving a long-distance relationship a try, but I don’t think it would work. And I’m sure your phoenix feels the same.”

She slowly nodded. “She doesn’t want you to leave, I don’t want you to leave,” she admitted. “But I can’t be selfish, you need to do what’s right for you and I can’t be a part of that decision, you have to make your own choices.”

“And that’s what I’m doing, I want to stay.”

“But have you thought this through? Really thought it through? What if our relationship doesn’t last? Then you’ve stayed here for nothing and I don’t want you to resent me for taking you away from your home. What are you going to do for a job? Where will you live? What about your friends and your job?”

“I’ve thought this through. If things don’t work out between us, then things don’t work out, but the odds of us staying together are just as high, even higher if you take into account my hellhound and your phoenix claiming each other. And I could never resent you for anything. A job? I’ve got a military background, as well as law enforcement; I should be able to get myself a job somewhere. And housing? I’ve got money behind me now, thanks to the payout from the Ministry, I’ll easily be able to buy a house or rent an apartment.”

“The rest of the money should’ve already been transferred to your account, you’re now a millionaire,” she spoke quietly and his eyes widened. “And if you want to stay, that’s your decision.”

He pushed himself up into a sitting position and frowned down at her.

“Why are you acting so...Off?”

“I’m not acting ‘off’, I’m just trying to remain neutral, I don’t want to sway your decision either way.”

“I want your honesty,” he told her with a scowl. “If I were to leave back to America, how would you feel?”

She sighed, rubbing her hands over her face before she pushed herself up into a sitting position, too. “You want my honesty? Fine. Despite the fact we’ve only known each other a few weeks and been together a matter of days, I’d miss you. I’d be devastated if you were to leave, but I’d support your decision because I want you to do what’s best for you.”

“And if I were to stay?”

“Then I’d be very happy, but I’d need to know that you were staying for the right reasons. That you were staying because you felt it was what’s best for you.”

“Glad we’re on the same page, I want to stay. I’m not needed in Beacon Hills, I no longer feel drawn there, instead, I feel drawn to you. I feel I need to be here with you. I feel this is where I’ll be happiest.” She uttered low grumbles and buried her head in her hands. “I’m happy to see you’re so joyous of my plans,” he muttered.

She removed her hands from her face and scowled at him, reaching out to swat at his arm, before laying back down and snuggling under the covers. His face softened and he moved to lay on his side, facing her.

“This is what you want? You want to stay?”

“There’s no doubt in my mind that I want to stay,” he said sincerely, allowing his hand to reach up to cup her cheek and she brought her hand up to rest over his.

“Alright then,” she nodded, a smile finally pulling at her face and he smiled back. “Then we need to sort out some issues. First of all, a job. If you would like me to, I can speak to Kingsley about making you a consultant for the RCMC Department. If he were to agree, you’d spend most of your time helping me to solve the more difficult and unusual cases, whether it be magical or supernatural. This way you’ll get a good payout for each case you help me to solve, and when there is no case, you have time to do whatever you wish to.”

“That’d be great,” he grinned. “Will he go for it?”

“Most likely, you are a hellhound after all. He knows you’re powerful and he’s seen what we’re both capable of when we work together. He’ll ask _me_ to convince _you_ to take the position.” He laughed at her as she rolled her eyes. “Kingsley can help with the paperwork of getting you a visa, both for the Wizarding World and the Muggle World, he can have it pushed through and approved in a matter of days. As for housing, you can stay with me.” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m not asking you to move in with me,” she snorted. “I’m asking you to be my roommate, who also happens to be my boyfriend.”

“And how is that any different?”

“Well, you’ll keep your belonging in your room but likely still sleep in mine, unless you’re in the dog house and I’m mad at you. So, technically, we have separate rooms, making us roommates. If we ever get to the point of me actually asking you to move in with me, you’ll notice the difference between then and now. And if that were a case, I’d imagine we’d move and get a house together instead.”

“Well there you go, I’ve got a visa sorted, a potential career and housing. I’m all set.”

“But what about those you’ll leave behind?” She questioned, biting her lip.

“I’m not leaving anyone behind, not really,” he said with a sad smile. “As I said before, my friends happen to be teenagers and they’re all moving and going off to college, and the sheriff, I suppose I’ll miss him, but that’s not enough reason to go back. And you know I have no other family.”

She knew this, they’d both spoken about their childhoods and their parents, his father dying of a heart attack when he was fifteen, and his mother died in a car crash when he was nineteen, where her own parents had died during the war after they’d been found in Australia.

“I’ll make new friends, I like Harry and Bill and George don’t seem too bad either.”

“Don’t ever take anything George gives you,” she warned and he chuckled at her. He’d heard horror stories of the older man’s pranks.

“Everything’s pretty much sorted, they’ll just be a few things I need to sort out before we make it official.”

“Such as?”

“I need to pack up my apartment and let my landlord know I’m moving out, luckily my rental agreement is up next month, so that’s not an issue. And I’ll have to officially put in my resignation at the station, so I’ll have to work my notice.”

“Okay, we can sort the details later, but right now, I have to get to the office. There’s some loose ends that need tying up with the Prodigium case.”

“But it’s Monday,” he grumbled.

“Exactly, and I have a lot to do. You can stay in bed if you wish, but I have to get to work.”

She pecked him on the lips and then climbed out of bed and walked into her bathroom.

~000~000~000~

“I can’t bloody believe this!” Hermione huffed as she stormed out of the floo and into her apartment, her heels echoing with each step she took as she paced back and forth.

“What are you doing back?” Parrish asked, coming into the living room partially dressed and with damp hair. She’d only been gone half an hour.

She stopped her pacing and swivelled around to face him, an annoyed look on her face.

“Kingsley, he’s banned me from the office.”

“What? Why?” He blinked in surprise.

“He wants me to take some time off, not only due to the Prodigium case but because I need to use up my holidays by September or I lose them.”

“Okay, and how long are you banned from entering your office?”

“Four bloody weeks!”

“You’re joking,” he said with surprise. “You’re getting four weeks paid leave?”

“Yes, and that’s only because Kingsley threatened to put me on probation if I didn’t listen to him. What the hell am I going to do for four weeks? I’ll be bored out of my mind. And what about my department? I have a deputy of course, but he’s as useless as bringing a wooden bat to fight off a dragon. When I get back it’s going to be in absolute shambles,” she started pacing again.

“Hermione, I really don’t think the Minister will allow that to happen, you’ve worked very hard to get to where you are today, and you’ve done an excellent job running your department, so well in fact that you don’t even realise how most of those under you supervision are able to do their jobs without you holding their hands.”

“Well, what I am going to do for a month?” She stopped in her pacing and crossed her arms over her chest, a sulky pout forming on her lips.

“Well, I have an idea,” he answered, walking over to her and standing in front of her so she had to look up at him. “You have four weeks leave, and I need to go back to Beacon Hills and get my affairs in order, I’ll have to work a notice of two to three weeks before I can officially move, so, why don’t you come with me?”

A crease appeared in her forehead. “What, come to Beacon Hills with you?”

“Yes, come with me. I’ll obviously have to work, but when I do, I’m sure you can use your magical travel to visit any town or state you wish to. And when I’m not on shift, we’ll spend time together like we do here.” She bit her lip. “At least you won’t be bored and you’ll have something to keep you busy. Just think, Hermione, all that history and those tourist sites and landmarks just waiting to be explored by you.” A smile pulled at his mouth when he could see in her eyes that he was winning her over. “It’ll be warm; summer in Beacon Hills has an average of six days of sun and heat, and only one of rain. You won’t be cold all the time, and you’ll be far away from Ron.”

That had done it.

“Fine,” she nodded. “But we go by port key.”

“We fly there and port key back,” he compromised, knowing she hated flying, and he didn’t like port keying all that much.

“Agreed,” she nodded. “I’ll book the next possible flight out. I’ll be back soon,” she spoke, kissing his cheek and heading to the fireplace. As she took a hand full of floo powder and stepped into the fireplace, she turned to face him. “Before I forget, congratulations, Deputy.” He raised an eyebrow in confusion. “You’ve got yourself a consultant contract to the Department Head of the RCMC.” He grinned at her. “Kingsley all but wet himself when I told him you wanted to stay. He’s getting your visa sorted, it will have definitely been processed and approved by the time we get back from America, and it’ll be here and waiting for you.”

~000~000~000~

After Hermione had purchased their plane tickets and returned to the apartment, they’d both packed their belongings, though for obvious reasons Hermione’s bag contained a lot more, but with an Extension Charm that didn’t really matter. She’d managed to get two last minute tickets to LA, and they only had a three hour wait until they boarded the plane, and after sending a quick Patronus to Harry and Kara, letting them know she was leaving the country for a few weeks, they both left for the airport.

During the takeoff and landing, Parrish had to comfort Hermione, especially when she almost set the armrests on fire when they hit a bit of turbulence, but for the most part, they’d spent the long flight taking naps, reading the books Hermione had stashed in her magic pockets and talking.

Hermione was exhausted and all too happy when the plane touched down on the ground and she was able to get off the flying death trap. They wasted no time at the airport, Hermione getting them past airport security with a few flicks of her wand and collecting their luggage. When they stepped out into the warm evening air, Hermione tilted her head back and a smile pulled at her mouth as the sun bathed her face.

“Are you sure you want to move to London?” She asked with a sigh. “The weather is awful.”

He snorted at her. “I know, but it doesn’t bother me; I don’t feel the cold.”

“Rub it in, why don’t you?” She muttered grumpily and he chuckled at her. “Right, what’s the plan?” She asked.

“I need to head to the station first. I need to write my resignation and hand it in, I can do that on my work computer, and I need to pick up my car, too.”

“Okay, I can apparate us straight to the station so we don’t have to waste any money getting a rental car, and it’ll save us the drive, too. We’re both tired and it wouldn’t be safe for either of us to drive.”

He nodded and took her hand and they walked down the street until they found an alleyway they ducked into, and Hermione pulled her wand and apparated them to the station.

“It feels strange being back here,” he commented as they walked to the doors.

“Well, give it a few weeks and we’ll be back in rainy, freezing, Britain.”

He snorted at her and gave her hand a squeeze before opening the door and stepping into the building, his eyes searching for who was present, from what he could see, there were only two deputies there, DeWitt and Strauss. When they noticed his presence, they both stood from their desks and called greetings, coming over to pat him on the back.

“It’s good to have you back,” Strauss said.

“It feels strange being back,” he replied. “Where is everyone? Where’s the sheriff?”

“They’re all out on calls and the sheriff went for dinner,” he answered. “Should be back soon, he’ll be happy to see you. What are you doing here; we didn’t know you were coming back?”

“We caught a last-minute flight, we landed and came straight here from the airport,” he explained. 

The two deputies turned to look at her, giving her looks of curiosity before they returned to their desks and Parrish moved over to his own, putting their bags down on the ground and taking his seat, switching on his laptop and he started typing away, Hermione presumed it was his letter of resignation.

“So, you returned, I knew you couldn’t stay away from me,” DeWitt said, giving her a charming smile and a flirty wink as he leaned back into his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, deliberately flexing his arms.

“I would respond to that, but I don’t think you’d be able to handle my retort,” she replied, taking off her jacket in the heat of the station and revealing the pretty pink blouse and dark blue skinny jeans that were complemented by the black ankle boots. His eyes roamed her body and a smirk pulled at his mouth.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, I’d burn you,” she spoke. His smirk seemed to widen.

His mouth opened and before he could reply with what she was sure was another flirty comment, he was cut off by her boyfriend.

“Back off, DeWitt!” Parrish snapped irritably, being tired from the flight and not appreciating another man –a work colleague, too- flirting with his girlfriend.

He stood from his desk and walked over to her, taking her by the hand and pulling her back to his desk with him. He pulled a chair over from the desk behind him and placed it beside his desk so she could sit down.

“Wait a minute? You and her?” DeWitt blinked in surprise, and Strauss looked just as shocked.

“Got a problem with that?” He questioned, barely controlling his glare.

“No, just never thought you had it in you,” he said with a smirk.

Parrish ignored him and turned back to his laptop.

“You can’t punch him, he’s your colleague,” she said quietly.

“Won’t be for much longer,” he muttered.

“Then you’ll get arrested for assaulting a deputy,” she replied. He grumbled under his breath and she chuckled at him. “We’re both tired from the flight, so, how about I go and get us some coffee? I can apparate over and be back soon.”

“No,” he spoke, “It’ll be too suspicious if you get back so quickly.” He dug into a draw on his desk and pulled out a set of car keys before handing them to her. “Take my car.”

“And if I get pulled over? They’ll think I stole a police car and arrest me.”

“If that happens, just tell them who you are, but you’ll probably get back before anyone notices.”

“Alright, I’ll be back soon,” she said, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek, ignoring the cat-calls from the two deputies, and she stood from her chair and left the station.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Page Count: 5

“So, Parrish, want to explain how that happened?” DeWitt spoke, putting his hands behind his head, leaning back into his chair and kicking his feet up onto his desk.

“Not really,” he replied, finishing off his letter of resignation and sending it to the printer.

“Come on, you’ve got to share the details, don’t be selfish.”

“It’s none of your business,” he spoke, sending him a withering look. “I’m not really in the mood for this, I’ve just flown twelve hours on a plane, and drove several hours to get here,” he lied slightly. “I could’ve gone straight home to get some rest and come in tomorrow morning, but I’m here instead.”

“Yeah, why is that?”

“I needed to pick up my car.”

“Then how did you get here?” He questioned.

“A rental,” he spoke, giving him a look that finally had him shutting up.

He stood from his desk and retrieved the document from the printer, before grabbing a pen and signing his name to make it official. He closed his laptop and rubbed a hand over his tired eyes, stifling a yawn.

“Alright, boys, dinner’s up!”

Parrish looked to the door, seeing Sherrif Stilinski entering with a bag filled with takeout, until he stopped in his steps upon noticing him.

“Parrish?” He questioned in surprise before a smile appeared on his face, he placed the bag on DeWitt’s desk and made his way over to him. Parrish stood and accepted the older man’s half hug and a slap on the back. “When did you get back?”

“Got off the plane and came straight here from the airport, I got here about twenty minutes ago,” he smiled.

“No wonder you look tired,” he snorted. “You should’ve gone home and returned tomorrow.”

“Needed to get my car,” he shrugged.

“Well since you’re here, let’s have a chat.”

Parrish nodded, grabbed the document off his desk and followed the sheriff into his office, taking the seat in front of the desk.

“So?”

Parrish knew what he was asking. “It took us a few weeks but we were able to find it, we stumbled upon it by accident. I’ve never seen anything like it; it was twice as frightening and deadly as The Beast. Our first interaction wasn’t pleasant, cut me up far worse than The Beast ever did and the death total continued to rise whilst I was there. We were able to injure it and a few days later we tracked it, and after another battle, we were able to kill it but we both came out injured. They’re still not sure what it was and they’re conducting tests on the body. In any case, it’s gone now.”

“I’m glad to hear that, and I’m glad you’re back, something’s happen...”

“Actually, I need to talk to you about something else,” he interrupted.

The sheriff frowned but nodded and Parrish put the resignation letter on the desk and slid it over to him. The sheriff took it curiously and his eyes swept over the words before they snapped back up to him.

“What the hell is this?” He asked in disbelief.

“My letter of resignation,” he answered.

“I don’t understand,” he frowned deeply.

“I’m leaving,” Parrish shrugged.

“Leaving? Leaving to where?”

“Britain,”

“I’m sorry?”

Parrish sighed and ran a hand through his short hair. “I’m leaving, moving to Britain. I have nothing keeping me here, and when I was in London I realised that I wasn’t happy here and there’s no reason for me to return. My family’s gone, my teenage friends are going off to college, and I no longer feel the need to be here. The nemeton is no longer drawing me here, I’m drawn to Britain instead and I know that’s where I need to be.”

“Where’s all this coming from?” The sheriff asked, before his eyes caught sight of a familiar-looking woman entering the station. “What’s she doing here?”

Parrish turned to look over his shoulder and a smile pulled at his mouth, and he gestured for Hermione to come into the office. A sheepish smile graced her face as she opened the door and stepped inside.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she spoke. “Sheriff, it’s nice to see you again,” she smiled. “I didn’t know you were back, I would’ve gotten you a coffee otherwise. I’d offer you a doughnut, but I think the Deputy over here would cry.” He scowled at her and she gave him a sweet smile and shrugged her shoulders. “I ate one of your doughnuts yesterday and I thought you were going to strangle me, you have to learn to share, I share my ice-cream with you all time,” she chided as she approached the desk. She placed the coffees and box of doughnuts onto the desk and rested her hand on his shoulder.

“You and her?” The sheriff blinked in shock, his eyes moving between them. They both nodded. “Should’ve seen it coming,” he muttered to himself. “Is she the reason you’re leaving, because I’m sure she’s a nice woman, but you can’t throw away your life for someone you barely know,” he spoke. “No offence,” he added, looking to Hermione and she waved him off.

“I’m not throwing my life away, Sheriff. Hermione didn’t even know I wished to stay in Britain until I told her about it this morning, I’d been thinking about it for over a week before I mentioned it. She didn’t convince me either way, in fact, I had to convince her that I was making the right decision. The only thing keeping me here is my job and that’s not enough. I need to move on in my life, I need to move onto better things and I know I can find that in Britain with Hermione. She’s different.”

“I’m sure she is,” he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing.

“Sheriff, I mean it, she’s different. My hellhound has claimed her as belonging to us.” His head snapped up at that. “She’s helped me more than I can explain. My hellhound and I, we’re now one person. Thanks to her, I’m stronger than I’ve ever been and I can control my hellhound. When I become the hellhound, I no longer have blackout spots in my memories, I remember everything, past and present. And I can bring my hellhound forward without the need for fire.” Parrish explained and the sheriff flinched back in surprise when his eyes suddenly shone bright fiery amber, and then returned to normal. “I understand my hellhound more than I ever thought possible.”

“And what are you going to do for a career? Money? Housing? A visa?” The sheriff questioned.

“I’ve got plenty of money behind me. Hermione’s government paid me five hundred thousand dollars before I even got on the plane, and when we killed Prodigium and closed the case, they gave me another five hundred thousand, I’m a millionaire.” The sheriff spluttered. “A career, Hermione’s government is giving me a job as a consultant, I’ll work alongside her and help her with any cases that are similar to Prodigium. A visa, her President is sorting it out for me. They have resources available to them that our government doesn’t and the paperwork should be processed and accepted in a few days. And housing, I’m staying with Hermione.”

His eyes widened.

“He’s not moving in with me, Sheriff, he’s going to be my roommate who also happens to be my boyfriend. If we get to the stage of officially moving in together, we’ll probably buy a property. There’s a difference,” Hermione shrugged.

“There’s nothing that I can do or say to change your mind?” The sheriff asked.

“No, I’m happy with my decision to leave. I know it’s what I need to do,” Parrish spoke.

The sheriff sighed. “Very well, I’ll be sad to see you go, but I’ll accept your resignation. You’ll have to work your three week’s notice.”

“I know, I need the time to get my affairs sorted, anyway,” Parrish smiled. “Hermione came back with me because her President’s making her take a four week vacation.” The sheriff raised an eyebrow and Hermione grumbled angrily under her breath. “She’s a bit of a workaholic.” He winced when Hermione swotted at his arm, but the sheriff looked amused.

“I’m getting him back for it, just you wait,” she muttered.

Parrish chuckled. “He threatened to put her on probation if she didn’t take four weeks leave, and he’s banned her from going anywhere near her office until those four weeks are up.”

The sheriff snorted when Hermione huffed and a scowl pulled at her face.

“Well, now that’s out of the way, I need to tell you something...”

“Can it wait until the morning?” Parrish asked. “It’s just, we’re exhausted from the long drive and even longer flight. I’m sort of working on autopilot at the moment.”

The sheriff looked hesitant but he nodded. “It can wait until the morning, go home and get some rest.”

~000~000~000~

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Hermione commented as her eyes searched Parrish’s apartment.

It was bare with only the essential items and furniture in the kitchen and living room. The kitchen was small with a fridge-freezer, an oven and a microwave sat in the corner on the countertop. The living room consisted of a small couch, an armchair and a coffee table in the centre of them, and the TV sat in front of the window on a stand. From the living room, she could see into his bedroom, which held a double bed positioned in the centre of the room and pressed up against the right wall, with a bedside table and lamp on the left. A chest of drawers sat on the wall beside the door and a wardrobe was beside it and on the back wall, there was a door that led to the bathroom. She noted that throughout the apartment the colour scheme was similar, mainly being grey and white with a few splashes of black thrown into the mix.

“You hungry?” He asked her, returning from the bedroom after putting their bags in there.

“Starved,” she nodded.

“We can order take out,” he spoke, moving to the kitchen and pulling a variety of menus out from a drawer. “I’ll have to go grocery shopping sometime tomorrow,” he said to himself.

“Well, I thought ahead and brought the basics,” she said pulling her wand and after a series of swishes, food suddenly floated into the kitchen from the bedroom and landed on the countertop. “Milk, bread, eggs, cheese, bacon, so at least we can have breakfast in the morning.”

“Do I even want to know how you got that through customs?”

“Probably not,” she shrugged.

He snorted at her before they both chose pizza and he placed an order, and they didn’t have to wait long for it to be delivered. They both ate in silence before they trudged to his bedroom, stripped off their clothing and climbed into bed, falling asleep once their heads hit the pillows.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Page Count: 5

Hermione woke to the morning sunlight streaming through a gap in the curtains, and a sleepy smile pulled at her face as the warmth bathed her skin. She allowed her eyes to flutter open and slowly her brain seemed to switch on and her senses came back to her.

Feeling the warmth of a body pressed against hers, she lifted her head to look over her shoulder, smiling when saw the deputy spooning her and looking peaceful in his sleep. She caught sight of the alarm clock and seeing that it was just after seven in the morning, she knew she wasn’t going to be able to sleep, especially since they’d gone to bed so early the previous night and she’d already slept longer than she ever had. She shifted the covers off herself and tried to climb out of bed without waking her boyfriend, but when she moved he made a sound in his sleep and held her tighter.

She held in her chuckle and carefully extracted herself from his tight hold, quickly heading to the bathroom and then making her way to the kitchen to find something to calm her rumbling stomach. On the way out of the door, she spotted his t-shirt from the day before lying on the ground beside the bed and without thought, she picked it up and slipped it on, the larger item of clothing being too big for her and falling down to her mid-thigh and the sleeves almost to her elbows.

She rummaged through the cupboards and found herself a mug, before making herself a cup of coffee and some eggs on toast. As she removed the eggs from the frying pan and plated them up, there was a knock on the door.

Hermione frowned slightly, wondering who the hell would be at the door so early in the morning, before she padded across the apartment, removed the chain from the lock and twisted the key, unlocking the door. She opened the door slightly and peeked her head around, surprised to see the group of teenagers she’d seen the deputy meeting at the school before they’d left for England, except there were three other boys she didn’t quite recognise.

“Can I help you?” She asked them.

They all looked surprised and confused to see her answering the door, and when their eyes widened, she knew they vaguely recognised her.

“We need to see, Parish,” one of the older boys spoke, and giving the aura he gave off, she guessed him to be the Alpha, Scott.

“He’s sleeping, can this wait until later?” She replied.

“Not really, it’s important,” he responded.

“Alright then, but I warn you, he’s a grumpy sod first thing in the morning. Come on in,” she spoke, stepping back and opening the door for them.

When they all saw her current state of dress their eyes widened in surprise, but the girl, Malia, she thought, looked amused. That would make the other boy Stiles, and the redhead Lydia. The three younger boys, two of them were holding hands so she quickly surmised their relationship, and the other boy who she suspected was Liam, the Beta werewolf, his eyes were wide as they trailed her figure. She barely contained her laughter.

She shut the door behind them and gestured to the seating available in the living room, before walking away and into the bedroom where Parrish’s sleeping form could be seen. She climbed up onto the bed and leaned over him, pressing her hands into the mattress to keep her balance.

“Hey, Deputy, it’s time to get up,” she said softly, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek. He made a sleepy noise of disapproval and she chuckled at him. “You have to get up.”

“Don’t want to, it’s still early,” he mumbled.

“You still have to get up.” She squealed in surprised when he turned onto his back and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her down onto him and cuddling her tightly. “I’m all for a morning cuddle,” she laughed. “But you have visitors.”

“What’d you mean?” He mumbled.

“Your supernatural friends are in the living room, they need to see you and apparently, it’s important and they can’t wait.”

His eyes flew open and he stared at her, noticing her dressed in nothing but his t-shirt. He thought it was a good look for her and she should do it more often.

“You answered the door like that?” He frowned.

She shrugged. “I didn’t know who was behind the door, they only saw me like this when I let them in. So, you better get up, whatever they wish to see you about is important, the Alpha was giving off anxiety vibes.”

He sighed and nodded, before quickly giving her a chaste kiss and allowing her to climb off him, where she went into the bathroom and summoned a pair of sleep shorts to slip on underneath her t-shirt. She then left the room and closed the door behind her, giving her boyfriend the chance to put some clothes on.

As she stepped into the living room, she noticed the uncomfortable atmosphere and Liam was looking anywhere but at her with flushed cheeks, Malia still looked amused, Lydia was watching her carefully and there was something in her eyes that Hermione didn’t quite like the look of. Scott and Stiles looked curious, whilst the two other boys she didn’t recognise or know the names of didn’t look bothered in the least.

“He’ll be right out,” Hermione spoke, moving back into the kitchen in order to prepare some coffee and breakfast for her boyfriend. “Can I get you anything?” She asked them and the group of teens all shook their heads in silence.

Parrish stepped out into the living room moments later, dressed in a t-shirt and pair of knee-length shorts. He gave them a nod in greeting before heading to the kitchen, gratefully accepting the mug of coffee from Hermione.

“You say I’m a grump when I don’t have my morning coffee, but you’re far worse than I am,” she said amused.

“I think we’re as bad as each other,” he shrugged, pinching the now cold toast from her plate and taking a bite as she swotted at his warm.

“Hey, that’s mine, yours is in the toaster,” she scowled at him. “Fine, you eat the cold toast and I’ll have yours.” He chuckled at her, before taking her plate of cold breakfast and moving it over to the living room, sitting in the armchair in front of the teens, the older four squashed onto the couch and the younger boys either stood or perched on the couch armrests.

They were all watching him silently, questioningly, but he refused to speak until after he’d gotten some food into his system. Hermione came over minutes later and perched herself on the armrest beside him, and their stares turned to watch her. When they finished their small breakfast, Hermione took their plates and mugs and deposited them in the sink, before returning to sitting beside him. 

“Right, everyone, this is Hermione. Hermione, you already know who everyone is, well, except for Mason and Corey,” he said, gesturing to the two boys she didn’t recognise, but she knew the names.

“Oh, the chameleon and Beast?” She questioned, and he nodded and she turned her eyes to Mason. “I’m sorry that happened to you,” she told him and he blinked in surprise at her knowing who he was. “How are you doing? I can only imagine how you must’ve felt.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” he replied.

“I’d offer you a doughnut, but he might cry,” she gestured to Parrish with her thumb. Malia snorted at her.

“Where the hell have you been!” Lydia finally exploded. “We’ve been calling and texting you for weeks and we never received a single reply from you. And why didn’t you let us know you were back!”

He blinked in surprise at the redhead’s outburst before shaking his head and taking Hermione’s hand in his, feeling her comforting presence wash over him.

“We returned yesterday evening, after a twelve hour flight and several hours driving, we went to the station to get my car, and then came straight home for rest. I never responded to any of your calls or texts because I didn’t know you’d tried to contact me. I haven’t had my cell on me since leaving, I lost it at the airport,” he lied. “And as for where I’ve been...” He looked up to Hermione and she nodded slightly, before turning to the teens.

“I recruited him to help with a case that was similar to The Beast you were forced to face here.” They all took deep breaths. “And unfortunately, it was a lot worse. We called it Prodigium, which is Latin for Monster. In three months, it killed over two hundred people and fatally wounded thirty of my agents. In the weeks it took us to track and kill it, it killed more innocent people, injured both of us and nearly killed me.”

“Prodigium, it was worse than The Beast,” Parrish said, drawing their attention. “Twice as big, twice as deadly, twice as frightening. It wounded me far worse than The Beast ever did. And now that’s over with, what are you doing here and what’s so important that it couldn’t wait?”

They all shared looks of worry, their eyes darting to Hermione and then to him.

“As you may have figured out, Hermione knows about the supernatural, there’s nothing that you can’t say to me that you can’t say to her.”

“I don’t trust her,” Lydia spoke.

Both Parrish and Hermione raised an eyebrow. “Is that because you don’t know my character, or because you’re jealous?” Hermione spoke, and Parrish looked to her and then to Lydia in surprise.

“Jealous? What do I have to be jealous of?”

“You tell me; after all, you’ve got a boyfriend. So why are you so bothered by the fact I’m in a relationship with Jordan?”

“I’m not,” she denied.

“You are,” Stiles said with a slight frown. “I know you, you’re acting weird.”

“I’m not!”

Hermione snorted. “Whatever you say, but I’ve seen enough jealous women in my life to know you have a problem with my relationship with the deputy. But giving your age, I’ll put it down to hormones and refrain from burning you.” Parrish slapped at her leg lightly in warning, as they stared at her speechless. “Anyway, I know who and what you are. It’s my job to know.”

“You’re a hunter?” Scott frowned.

“No, I’m the exact opposite, I’m a protector.” They all looked confused. “I am the head of a department who works to protect the secrets and identities of supernatural beings in the world, ensuring they can all live a normal life without fear. I’m the reason many werewolves and banshees and other beings are able to be protected against hunters. That’s how I know who and what you are. My department has files on each one of you, I have a remarkably high-security clearance and if I wish to, I could pull the file of any person from your government’s database and no one would bat an eyelash.”

“So what are you? FBI? CIA?” Stiles asked.

“No, I have abilities that make me different, too, but I’m not a supernatural being. There are thousands of people like me living in secret around the world and we have our own government, and different branches and departments. Unfortunately, that’s all I can tell you, if I were to say more I’d be breaking the ancient laws of my people and I’d be arrested and imprisoned.”

“So, now that Hermione’s explained herself, why are you here? What’s the problem?”

Scott opened his mouth to reply but a sudden loud tapping on the window drew their attention and Hermione frowned before going over to it, opening it and taking the letter from the owl before it flew off, ignoring the expressions on the teens’ faces. She frowned when she saw The American Ministry’s seal.

“What’s that?” Parrish asked.

“I’m not sure,” she replied, opening the letter and her eyes scanned the words on the page, widening slightly. “The American branch has heard that I’m here visiting, there’s a problem regarding the safety of supernatural beings and they wish for my help. I better go.” She looked at the teenagers. “Wait on your explanation until I get back, I have a feeling they might be connected.”

Without a second glance, she darted into the bedroom and reappeared minutes later, dressed in a navy blue blazer, black jeans, a white blouse and black heels.

“How did you do that so fast?” Malia asked her.

“It’s one of my abilities,” she answered, before turning to Parrish. “I’ll be back soon; you should get ready for your shift, too.” She said, before placing a kiss to his cheek and leaving out the door, leaving behind a confused group of teens.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Page Count: 10

Hermione had only been gone twenty minutes when she returned to the apartment, slipping in through the door to see the group of teens muttering between themselves on the couch. They eyed her curiously as she strode through the room and into the bedroom, walking in on her boyfriend fastening his uniform shirt.

She closed the door and leaned back against it, her eyes happily tracing his figure as she bit her lip. He really did look good in his uniform.

“Did they explain?” He asked, tucking his shirt into his trousers and then picking up his gun and putting it into its holster.

“Yes, and it’s bad, if those kids out there are going to say what I think they are, they have reason to be worried.”

“That bad?”

“That bad,” she confirmed with a sigh.

He walked over to her and pressed a kiss to her forehead, before taking her hand in his and leading her out of the bedroom and back into the living room. Parrish took a seat on the armchair and Hermione sat on the armrest beside him.

“So, am I correct in saying you wish to speak about the sudden murders of supernatural beings in Beacon Hills, including werewolves, wendigos and werecoyotes?”

“What? Yes, how did you know?” Scott blinked in surprise.

She gave him a small sad smile. “Unfortunately, they are not only being murdered here in Beacon Hills but across the continent. As far as I’m aware, nothing has occurred yet in Europe which is why I haven’t been made aware of the situation until now, despite it falling under my jurisdiction. They should’ve contacted with this information so I could’ve put security measures in place to protect those that reside in Europe, and I promise, they’ll learn of my displeasure soon enough.” Parrish snorted at her and the others shuffled uncomfortably. “Anyway, when the American branch of my government heard I was in town, they contacted me immediately because they need my help. What can you tell me?”

Scott cleared his throat and shook his head, looking a little hopeful that she could help. She supposed he’d dealt with a lot over the years, and she could admire his strength and courage. A Gryffindor if she ever saw one.

“They’re being killed by hunters; they’re not even hunters really. They’re recruiting more and more people by the day, by exposing us to the public and creating fear and panic, every day, regular people are going out of their way to hunt us down and kill us. We know several supernatural beings have gone missing, and we know some are being taken and tortured, being used to showcase our existence to the public. We don’t know who they are or where they’re being kept, so we can’t break them out if they’re even still alive,” he explained.

“They’re building an army,” Liam spoke up, looking down at the ground with a sad look on his face. “They’ve started to test suspected supernatural beings, if you pass you’re free to leave and are expected to join the army, if you fail, they kill you. They murdered my friends in cold blood and exposed me.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Hermione said softly and he looked up at her, getting caught in her gaze. “I promise you, I’m going to make sure this is all taken care of. None of you should’ve been dragged into this, none of this should’ve been placed on your shoulders, but, now I’m taking over and I’ll handle it.”

“And what exactly are you going to do?” Stiles asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Gerard Argent, he’s a part of this, isn’t he?”

“How’d you know? How do you know him?”

“Oh, Gerard and I go way back. I met him a few years ago when I was still a teenager myself, he and I came to an understanding. And it seems he’s gone back on his word, so I’m going to have to have a little chat with him. Can you set up a meeting for me?”

“We tried that and they almost killed us,” Scott said. “If it weren’t for Mason and Corey creating a distraction, we would’ve died. And he’s not the one calling the shots, it’s a woman called Monroe. She’s got a real hatred for the supernatural; she blames us for The Beast.”

“Idiot,” Hermione muttered. “Very well, I assume you know his son, Chris.”

“Yeah?”

“Call him for me, please, right now.”

He frowned before pulling his phone from his pocket and dialling the number, it rang several times before a voice carried over the speakerphone.

“Scott?”

She hadn’t heard that voice in years and she felt a smile pull at her mouth.

“Not quite, Chrissie,” she chimed.

The line went silent before a huff of laughter was heard. “I’d know that British accent anywhere,” he spoke, and the others looked surprised by how happy he sounded. “It’s been a while, Fire-bird.”

A smile formed on her face. “It has, too long, I haven’t been called that in years. But enough with the pleasantries, we have time for that later, I’m letting you know I’m aware of the bloody mess we’re in thanks to your psychotic father.”

He snorted. “I figured it wouldn’t be long until you were brought in. So, what’s the plan?”

“I need you to set up a meeting with Gerard, but don’t let him know about me. We’ll surprise him.”

“If he sees you, he’ll flee. You’re the only person I’ve ever seen him fear.”

“And I’m still counting on that fear. We’re ending this before it gets any worse, they’re not stopping at Beacon Hills and if we let them continue this is going to spread worldwide. We need to nip it in the bud right now. If all goes to plan, tonight will mark the end of the killings, and I’ll have my people work on damage control.”

“I can’t guarantee it’ll work, but I’ll try and set up a meeting. I’ll let you know when I can.”

“Thanks, Chrissie, I owe you.”

“You saved my life _and_ terrified my father, you don’t owe me anything,” he replied amused before the line went dead, and they all looked to her.

“You don’t have to worry about this anymore, I’ll take over and hopefully, this will all be over by tonight. You should stay out of sight, if they’re hunting you we can’t risk any of you getting caught. Deputy, you go to the station and I’ll head back to the American branch and oversee the investigation. We need to know how many people are a part of this. If any of them have killed a supernatural being they’ll be arrested and put on trial. Those that haven’t will be memory wiped and put back into society. This is going to be hours of planning,” she sighed, bringing her hands up to her temples.

“Does he know about you?” Parrish asked.

“No, he doesn’t.”

“But he called you Fire-bird, why would he do that if he didn’t know your secret?”

“That’s more to do with my personality than my actual fire,” she replied, seeing the curious looks of the teens. “And now, I better get back and inform the others of my plan.”

~000~000~000~

Hermione had spent all day at The American Ministry, explaining the plan for the meeting, investigating those that were missing and sending a team of Aurors out to search possible locations for the abducted supernatural beings, but so far they hadn’t been successful. She’d barely had a moment to herself all day and when she finally found a moment of silence, it was time for her to leave to the meeting place.

Chris had been able to convince Gerard to attend a meeting, but she hadn’t doubted him, Gerard had always been a curious man and she knew he wouldn’t have been able to resist not knowing who wished to meet with him.

Beacon Hills High School had been chosen as the meeting place. Given the school had closed for the summer not a few days before, it was empty and there would be no one around. Before leaving for the school, Hermione had changed into a white t-shirt, black jeans and black ankle boots and a warm jacket over the top, so she would be more comfortable.

When Hermione apparated to school, she saw several cars in the car park and a group of people nearby consisting of the seven teens, the sheriff, her boyfriend and Chris Argent.

Hearing her approaching, they all turned towards her and a smile appeared on her face when her gaze locked with Chris’. When she was close enough, he pulled her into a fatherly hug.

“It’s good to see you, Chris,” she said, pulling back from him and smiling up at him.

“You too, Fire-bird. I can’t believe how much you’ve grown. You were a kid when I last saw you,” he replied, looking surprised by how much she’d actually changed.

“Well, it’s been nearly six years,” she chuckled, shaking her head.

“Still, you’re all grown now, I don’t like it.”

She laughed at him before a sad look crossed her face. “I heard about, Allison. I’m sorry that happened.”

He gave her a sad smile. “It’s alright, I know you would’ve helped if you could’ve.”

She nodded. “I would’ve, if I’d have known sooner I would’ve come to the funeral, as it was, I wasn’t alerted until three months after her death.”

“I understand and I’m sure Allison would’ve too, she looked up to you.”

She smiled sadly. “Well, I’m glad you’ve changed your ways, it would be very awkward if I had to arrest you.”

He snorted at her and shook his head, before putting his arm around her shoulders and guiding her over to the group.

“You knew Allison?” Scott asked her.

“Yes, she was twelve when I first met her,” she answered, but didn’t elaborate further.

“So what’s the plan?” Stiles asked her.

“Just stand there and look pretty, everything is sorted. Now we just have to wait.”

Hermione stepped away from the group and moved closer to her boyfriend, who gave her a small smile and pulled her into a hug, holding her against him gently.

“How you feeling?”

She sighed. “Tired. So much for my holiday.” He chuckled at her. “I think I’m cursed, no matter where I go trouble seems to find me. I’m blaming Harry, it’s his fault, I spent so much time protecting him from harm and running after him when he dived headfirst into danger, that it’s now transferred to me.”

“If all goes to plan, you can start your exploring tomorrow.”

“Hmm,” she hummed, snuggling into his warmth. It wasn’t exactly cold, but it was a little chilly for her given how sensitive she was to the cold.

“You cold?”

“A little,” she shrugged. “Your body heat’s helping though.”

“You really are sensitive to the cold,” he muttered, looking over to Lydia who was only wearing a dress and without a jacket, too, and she seemed fine.

“I know,” she sighed. “I’ve been thinking.”

“About?”

“Well, you have to work your three week’s notice and I have four weeks off, so, how about we spend the last week together? We can visit Europe again, if you wish to. We can go to any country, town or city you wish. I know you were a little upset you didn’t get the chance to see all the sites whilst we were looking for Prodigium, so we can make up for it.”

“That sounds perfect,” he smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to her mouth.

“I don’t like that either,” Chris called.

“What?” Hermione questioned, pulling back from Parrish but remaining tucked into his side.

“You two together,” he clarified.

She laughed at him. “Of course you don’t, but I don’t particularly care.”

“Of course you don’t,” he repeated her words. “And if I shoot him?” He asked. She smiled sweetly. “Face your wrath, I know,” he chuckled.

“The wait’s over,” Malia interrupted, spotting the headlights nearing their position.

“Time for me to disappear then,” she spoke, stepping away from her boyfriend and moving to duck behind one of the police cars, lying in wait.

She heard the cars pulling up and the engines being shut off and doors opened and closed, and she snuck a look around the car, seeing the many people spread out and all carrying guns. She spotted Gerard and disgust and anger filled her and she had to fight back the urge to claw his eyes out. Her eyes squeezed shut tightly and when she felt a hand on her shoulder, she looked up to see the deputy staring down at her worriedly.

“You alright?” He asked softly.

“Fine,” she muttered.

“You’re not, your eyes have changed.”

She let out a growl of annoyance before shutting her eyes tightly and focusing her magic, forcing her emotions down and to remain in control.

“Better,” he nodded as she opened her eyes to reveal chocolate brown.

She breathed out deeply and once more snuck a look, only to see there were more people than before and a woman stood at the front with Gerard at her side, Hermione assumed it was Monroe. This wasn’t a meeting; it was going to be a slaughter. They wouldn’t bring that many people with them if they’d had no intention of killing.

“You made a mistake in asking for another meeting,” Gerard spoke, his voice as cold and cruel as she remembered it being, and Hermione squeezed Parrish’s hand tightly.

“We’re not the ones that wish to speak with you,” she heard Chris reply.

“Oh, then where is the one that will be the cause of your deaths?”

Hermione took another breath before standing tall, her back straight, her head held high and she walked over to the group with Parrish by her side.

“Gerard, you have been very naughty, haven’t you?” She spoke, her voice penetrating the silence.

She walked through the group that parted for her until she stood in front of them, all of them marvelling at the way Gerard took a small step backwards and they looked at Chris in surprise, seeing that he looked amused.

“I know you’re an idiot, but I did have some hope that you weren’t stupid enough to go back on our deal. You’ve let me down and I’m very disappointed in you. Now you’ve made an enemy of me and you and I both know, that is not something you want to be.”

“And who the hell are you?” The woman demanded, holding a handgun in her hand that was held down by her side, and narrowing her eyes slightly.

“I see he hasn’t warned you about me then,” Hermione replied. “Now I truly am disappointed, Gerard. This poor woman has no idea what you’ve put her up against, does she?” She sighed in disappointment and shook her head lightly. “Well, I assume you’re Monroe, I’m Hermione Granger.”

“You’re one of them?” She asked, sending a disgusted look to the teens behind her.

“No, I’m not a supernatural being, I’m something much more...” She trailed off, trying to think of a word.

“Dangerous?” Parrish offered.

“Terrifying?” Chris spoke. “Isn’t she, Gerard?” He said with a shit-eating grin on his face. “After all, Monroe, she’s the only person he’s ever been afraid of and she’s human, like you and me. So you should ask yourself, why is he afraid of her?”

Monroe turned to look at Gerard questioningly, but he refused to look at her.

“Well, seeing as Gerard’s suddenly gone quiet, which is something I thought I’d never see,” Hermione spoke. “I’m going to tell you how this meeting’s going to go down. You’re going to tell your idiot followers to put their weapons down on the ground and then walk away, to go home to their families and to never harm another supernatural being again.”

“And if I don’t?” She smirked.

A smile crept up onto Hermione’s face and Gerard took another step back.

“If you don’t, I’ll burn you,” she said softly.

“There’s more of us than you, you’d be dead before you could do anything,” she sneered.

Hermione laughed lightly. “Oh, Sweetie, you are so out of your depth and severely misinformed. So, I’ll gladly show you. Scott, would you mind coming here for a moment?” She looked over her shoulder, and the teen looked nervous but made his way over to her. “Alright, here we have Scott McCall, a True Alpha werewolf and I know you want to kill him more than anything, so shoot him.”

“What!” Several shouts came from behind her.

“Scott,” Chris called and he turned to look at him. “Scott, trust her, she knows what she’s doing,” he told the teen. He took a deep breath and nodded.

“Go on, Monroe, shoot him. This is the only chance you’re going to get.” 

“Monroe, don’t,” Gerard warned, but she didn’t listen.

Monroe had a cruel smile on her face as she lifted her gun, took aim and fired. The gunshot was loud and echoed in the silence and before the bullet reached them, it smacked into an invisible barrier and fell to the ground, rattling as it rolled across the floor. Those behind her gasped in surprise, Scott looked down at himself in relief and disbelief, and Monroe slowly lowered her gun with a worried look on her face.

Hermione’s sweet smile remained on her face and she titled her head to the side, impressed by the wards she’d instructed a curse breaker to place on the car park before the meeting was to take place.

“So you see, your weapons cannot hurt us.”

“We’ll see,” she all but growled, before she raised her gun and on her command, every other person did the same, and Hermione winced as a parade of gunshots sounded and every single bullet slammed into the barrier and landed on the ground, and this seemed to sink in as the gunshots died down.

“You obviously wish to do this the hard way, but before we do, I have one question. Where are the supernatural beings you’ve abducted?” She didn’t speak, rather she was glaring at her murderously. “No? Very well, I’m sure I’ll have fun rooting through your memories, and because I’m feeling like a bit of a bitch this evening, I’m not going to be gentle about it either.”

She heard Malia snort from behind her whilst Parrish slipped his larger hand around her smaller one.

“One last time, Monroe, tell them to lower their weapons and leave, or I will be forced to take action.”

“You and what army?” She spat.

Hermione smiled. “My army, of course.”

Suddenly Hermione removed a switch from her pocket, flicked it and a beeping sound was heard, and soon after, dozens upon dozens of Aurors suddenly became visible and were surrounding them.

Before anyone had time to react, spells were being fired and every single person present collapsed to the ground, unmoving and tied up, all except for Monroe, who’s gun was ripped from her hand and it flew over to Hermione and landed in her outstretched hand. Shouts and noises of surprise and disbelief were heard from behind her, but she ignored them as she released Parrish’s hand, passed him the gun and then walked over to Monroe.

“This really could’ve been much easier, and far less embarrassing for you,” Hermione said before two Aurors came up behind Monroe and grabbed her by the arms and pushed her onto the ground on her knees.

“Miss. Granger, all targets have been detained.”

“Thank you, Auror Wells,” she smiled. “Transport everyone to the holding cells, find out which of those are responsible for ending a life and book them. Those that are innocent, have the cleanup team do a thorough memory alteration and drop them back off at their homes, please.”

“Yes, Miss. Granger,” he nodded and then turned and walked away.

“As for you Gerard,” she turned towards the older man that was laid on the ground and tied up with ropes. She knew he wouldn’t be able to reply due to the Stunner, but he’d be able to hear her just fine. “You’re going away for a very long time. We have prisons for people such as you, but even the inmates don’t care for those that harm defenceless, innocent children. They’ll have a field day with you, I’m sure, and I should warn you, the guards tend to be a little lax at mealtimes.”

She then turned back to Monroe and crouched down in front of her as she struggled against the hold of the two Aurors. She was aware of the presence of the group of people that had moved closer to her, standing not far behind her.

“This is going to hurt, and I don’t even feel bad about it.” Hermione removed her wand from her sleeve and with her eyes locked onto Monroe’s, she whispered, “ _Legilimens_.”

Hermione had barely been inside the woman’s twisted mind before she found what she needed and pulled back.

“You truly are a despicable human being,” Hermione sighed. “Arrest her please, gentlemen, and make sure to give her the special treatment.” They both smirked at her. “And have your best Legilimens search her mind as well as Gerard Argent’s for the names and identities of other wannabe hunters, this isn’t just occurring here, and with that information, we can shut down their entire operation.” They both nodded before Monroe was hauled off her feet and dragged away, kicking and screaming.

“Jones, Hamilton!” Hermione called, standing up and attracting the attention of the two Aurors, who quickly headed over to her. “I want you to get a rescue team together. There’s twenty-plus supernatural beings that are being held prisoner in an old warehouse about five miles north-west. You’re going to need several healers and be on your guard, the building is being guarded by more men with weapons. Retrieve them as quickly and safely as you can and move them to the safe house. I’ll expect a report on the rescue mission tomorrow morning.”

“Miss. Granger,” they both nodded and left.

“What just happened?” Stiles asked, and when she turned around, he was scratching at the back of his neck, looking as confused as everyone else, whilst Chris just smiled and Parrish didn’t look the least bit surprised as he took her hand in his.

“I told you I would take care of it, and I have. You no longer have to worry. I’d give it about a week before everything goes back to normal, after all, they need to do a mind wipe on every single resident in the area in order to keep your secret from getting out again, and that’s going to take time. I’ve sent a team to retrieve those that were abducted, they will be taken to a safe house where they will be well looked after until they are healed and we are sure they are no longer in danger. Monroe will definitely be sent to prison, and I’m confident she’ll receive a life sentence for her crimes, as will Gerard.”

“But I don’t understand, where did they all come from?” He said.

“I can’t tell you.”

“Are they like me?” Corey spoke for the first time since she’d met him. She understood his thought process behind that question.

“No, but we do have the ability to camouflage ourselves into our surroundings should we wish to,” she answered.

“Were they here this whole time?” The sheriff asked her.

“They arrived before you did,” she confirmed.

“Why didn’t those bullets kill us?” Malia asked.

“I can’t tell you that either.”

“But what about...” Liam started, but she shook her head and he sighed, before falling quiet.

“I can’t believe it’s over just like that,” Scott said. “There wasn’t even a fight,” he frowned.

“Violence is not always the answer,” she shrugged. “Besides, if it makes you feel any better, it was really hard for me to stop myself from punching both Monroe and Gerard, and trust me, I’ve got a good right hook.”

Chris laughed at her. “I know you do,” he replied, absentmindedly rubbing at his chin and being reminded of the time she’d smacked him across the face when she was nineteen.

“Well, everything’s been taken care of and I’m exhausted, so I think we should all head home,” she said.

Reluctantly they all left the car park, still confused about everything that had happened that night, but glad that it was all over. Chris gave her a hug and drove off in his car, whilst the sheriff shook her hand and gave her a thankful smile and he slapped Parrish on the shoulder, reminding him to be at work on time the next morning, and that left the two of them alone.

“I’m proud of you,” Parrish spoke, giving her a smile and pushing her hair out of her face. “I know it must’ve been hard for you to control your phoenix, but you did, and you put an end to the intended genocide of supernatural beings in a single day. Not bad for a day’s work.”

She chuckled at him. “Well, it’s my job to protect those that are different, and I really am going to give the American RCMC Department a bollocking for not informing me of this problem sooner. They know I have a background with Gerard, and they knew what they were planning. If they’d had managed to get their operation into Europe, there would’ve been a lot more killings, and it would’ve been harder to take them down.”

“You never did say how you know the Argents,” he commented.

“I met them when I nineteen. I hadn’t been with the RCMC Department long but I was sent out on an assignment, tracking hunters that were harming innocent people. It was the Argents and they were in France for a short while. I scared the hell out of Gerard and Chris took a liking to me. We spent two weeks negotiating terms and they promised not to harm anyone else, and that’s how I met Allison, too,” she shrugged.

She turned to look over her shoulder, seeing the last of the detainees being transported away and leaving the car park silent.

“You know, I really do like you in that uniform,” she spoke as she turned back to him.

“Is that so?” He smirked.

“Hmm,” she hummed, her eyes trailing the sight he made, and she was sure she’d never get tired of it. He was keeping the uniform, even after they returned to England and she’d make sure of it. “I told you, Deputy, I quite like a man in uniform. Shall we get out of here?”

“Have plans do you?” He questioned amused.

“As a matter of fact, I do. So it’s up to you, we can either go home now, or you’ll have to arrest me for public indecency, at which point, I’ll convince you to ravish me in the holding cells.”

His mouth dropped open as she gave him an innocent smile and walked to his car, putting a deliberate sway in her hips.

“I may be fire-proof, but even I can’t handle her fire,” he muttered to himself.


	26. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Page Count: 6

**Three years later...**

Three years had passed since Hermione and The Deputy had met each other. Three years of working troubling cases and fighting creatures and beasts. Three years of getting injured and countless near-death experiences. Three years of teasing and laughter, of fights and arguments, but most importantly, three years of love and happiness.

Three months after dating, they confessed their love for each other and Hermione officially asked Jordan to move in with her, no longer being her ‘roommate’ and she had been right, much to his surprise, there was a massive difference between the two.

Six months after dating, Jordan proposed and asked for her hand in marriage, and it had been quite unexpected. They’d been working a case together which forced them to Russia after chasing the creature responsible. They’d gotten lost in the middle of nowhere, it was dark and snowing, and Hermione had been so cold that her lips had turned blue and he had to turn into his hellhound form and wrap himself around her to stop her from getting hypothermia.

They’d made it back to London in time and Hermione had been bed-bound for three days, and after seeing her so vulnerable, seeing her looking so small and fragile, he knew he wanted to marry her. He’d popped the question whilst she was sneezing into a tissue and sipping at some soup. It hadn’t been romantic or thought out, it’d been a spur of the moment kind of thing, and he’d surprised her so much, she hadn’t spoken for ten minutes until tears suddenly ran down her face and she nodded vigorously, accepting his proposal. He’d never felt happier on that day.

Nine months after dating, they moved out of the apartment and bought a house together. It was in the middle of nowhere surrounded by fields and trees, but they liked the silence and serenity of the property. Given what they did for a living, it was a peaceful, calm environment to come home to.

Twelve months after dating, they had a magical wedding ceremony held on their property and they invited all of their friends and colleagues from work. It had been a lovely sunny day and luckily everything had gone off without a hitch. Neither of them could’ve asked for anything more. They honeymooned for two weeks, travelling around Europe once more. After their honeymoon, they’d gone to Beacon Hills in order to have a second, smaller wedding ceremony, where they’d invited the sheriff and deputies, Chris, Scott, Stiles, Lydia, Malia, Liam, Corey and Mason, and they’d done so at the nearby chapel.

In the years that followed and despite living in London, Hermione and Jordan made sure to visit Beacon Hills at least three times a year, in order to keep in contact with those that had been left behind, and they made sure to schedule it for when the teens would be home and visiting from college.

Two years after meeting, they’d discovered that Hermione was pregnant with their first child, and they’d both decided that they didn’t wish to know the gender as they wanted it to be a surprise.

And now three years later found Hermione and Jordan visiting Beacon Hills, as she was heavily pregnant and it would be a while before they got the chance to visit again. Of course, Hermione hadn’t been able to fly or port key with neither option being safe, so they’d gotten a temporary international floo license, and with her unable to apparate, it made it hard to get around. Their friends had been curious to know how she’d gotten across the pond given her pregnancy, but they’d both remained tight lipped about the whole thing since none of them knew of her magic. They were still curious about her and her abilities, but they’d learned to grow used to never getting the answers they wanted.

Hermione and Jordan were staying in a nearby motel, and whilst she had stayed behind to take a nap, Jordan had gone to the station with the sheriff to see his old work colleagues. She’d been having back pains for hours and just wanted to rest, hoping that sleep would dull the ache. He’d only been gone an hour when Hermione woke with the urgent need to pee, and so she struggled to sit up and waddled to the bathroom, only for her waters to break.

She panicked. She was in pain. Their baby had decided they’d waited long enough. Her husband was elsewhere. She was alone. She had no way of contacting him, or of phoning an ambulance, so she did the only thing she could think of. She grabbed the car keys to the rental parked out the front, climbed into the car and drove. The station was far closer to the motel than it was the hospital and to be honest, she didn’t think she would make it that far. She’d been timing her contractions and the baby was determined to be out of her. Hopefully, someone at the station would be able to help her whilst they phoned for an ambulance, and with some luck, the baby would wait until medical help arrived.

She pulled up outside the station and left the car, not bothering to remove the key from the ignition or to shut the door behind her, as she struggled towards the door and barged inside, all sounds stopping upon her entrance as they turned to her in surprise, seeing her doubled over, a look of pain on her face and the sweat that was slicking her skin.

“The baby’s coming,” she panted out. No one moved. “I said the bloody baby’s coming!” She screeched.

Everyone jumped up from their desks and ran around like headless chickens, whilst the sheriff and her husband came barrelling out of his office to stare at her with wide, surprised eyes.

“Isn’t anyone going to do something?” She snapped, bracing herself against the door frame as another contraction hit her and she cried out in pain.

They both rushed over to her, the sheriff started barking out orders which included for someone to find some blankets and put them on the floor, whilst someone else retrieved the cushions from the couch in his office and put them on the ground, too. They helped her over to a little cosy area they’d tried to make for her, and once she was on the ground, Jordan moved to sit behind her, his legs on either side of her and his body supporting hers whilst she gripped his hand tightly as she went through her contractions. He was just glad for his enhanced strength as it didn’t hurt as much as he thought it might if he were a regular human. 

“How did you get here, Hermione?” He asked gently, rubbing at her shoulders with his other hand and hoping to distract her from the pain.

“I drove,”

“What!”

“I panicked, I was alone and I had no way of calling you or an ambulance. The station’s a lot closer than the hospital and I wouldn’t have made it.”

Another scream tore from her as another contraction hit.

“Sheriff, the ambulance is going to be another ninety minutes, there’s been a six car pileup and that takes priority,” Claus spoke, a new deputy who’d only been there six months.

“She doesn’t have ninety minutes, the baby’s coming now!” He grumbled from his place kneeling beside her and he gave her a sympathetic look for the situation she was in.

“Well someone better pull themselves together and delivery my baby, or I swear, I will castrate each and every single one of you!” Hermione snapped, and all the men paled, there only being one female deputy.

The sheriff pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Alright, I need towels, a bowl of hot water, scissors, and something to tie off the umbilical cord.” No one moved. “Now!” He barked before the deputies rushed off to get what he needed. “Okay, Hermione, I’m just going to see how far along you are.”

“Have you done this before?” She asked, crying out through the pain.

“Not really,”

“Great.”

It took a bit off shuffling, but they were able to get her underwear off and he shifted her dress, his face immediately paling.

“What’s that look for?” She asked in a panic.

He cleared his throat. “It seems you’re a lot further along than I realised.”

“I... I think I need to push,” she cried.

“Strauss, move your ass!” The sheriff called.

The deputy rushed into the room with an armful of towels, before handing them to him and stepping back, waiting with the others who looked traumatised by the whole ideal, even if some of them had kids themselves.

“Whenever you’re ready, Hermione,” he told her softly.

She nodded and took a deep breath before she pushed, crying out against the pain and squeezing her husband’s hand as he whispered words of comfort and love into her ear.

“I see the head, keep going,” the sheriff encouraged.

Hermione gave another push and cried out once more before their attention was drawn when the door was thrown open and Stiles rushed into the station.

“I got the call, what’s happening?” He panted out, leaning over slightly before moving closer.

“I’m having a baby!” Hermione snapped. Stiles’ face went white before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fainted, collapsing on the floor in a heap. “Idiot,” she cried out through another push.

Moments later Malia and Lydia rushed into the station, and hearing Hermione’s cries they quickly understood the situation and they stepped over the unconscious heap on the floor with a roll of their eyes, and they both rushed to Hermione’s side.

Lydia grabbed one of the smaller towels and dipped it into the bowl of water, before patting down Hermione’s forehead, and Malia kneeled on her other side, taking Hermione’s other hand in her own, and a look of concentration filled her eyes and suddenly Hermione’s pain eased as Malia numbed it for her. Hermione was physically able to see her pain being pulled from her body by the way the veins in Malia’s arms went black, and she gasped herself.

“Thank you,” Hermione panted. “You’re far better than an epidural.”

Malia snorted at her but didn’t release her hand, instead, she gave it a comforting squeeze.

“Hermione, you have to keep pushing, we’ve almost got the shoulders out,” the sheriff spoke.

Hermione let out another cry before she pushed and Malia took her pain as she did so. Sometime later a loud cry was heard and Hermione collapsed back into her husband, exhausted and breathless. The sheriff cut the umbilical cord and tied it off, before wrapping the baby in a towel.

“You did so well,” Lydia praised her, a smile on her face and happy tears in her eyes.

Lydia had gotten over her problem with Hermione fairly quickly, given that she’d stopped the hunters from committing genocide, she clearly made Jordan happy and she’d learned that Hermione really was a kind-hearted person. Unless you pissed her off, then she was terrifying. 

“Congratulation,” the sheriff said. “You are parents to a beautiful baby boy.”

Hermione cried happy tears as their son was pressed into her arms, and she and her husband looked down at him adoringly whilst Lydia and Malia moved back to give them some privacy.

Hermione didn’t think he could be any more perfect. He had a thick head of brown hair, a shade in-between her own and her husband’s, and when he opened his eyes, they were chocolate brown with flecks of amber, a perfect representation of them both. His little arms broke free from the towel and skimmed her chin as they moved.

“He’s perfect,” she whispered.

“Just like his mother,” Jordan replied, placing a gentle kiss to her cheek and resting his chin on her shoulder to look down at their son. “I have never loved you more, and I have never been prouder.”

She turned her head to look at him. “I love you,” she spoke.

He smiled at her widely. “Love you, too,” he replied, pecking her on the lips, before shifting from behind her so he could hold their son.

“Thank you, Sheriff,” Hermione spoke, turning to look at him.

He gave her a smile. “No worries, but I’m now scarred for life.”

She chuckled at him. “You and me both, he wasn’t due for another four weeks.”

“He seems perfectly healthy, but the paramedics will check him over when they eventually get here. And this is a first, a lot’s happened in this station but there’s never been a child delivery.”

“Glad I could tick that off the list,” she replied, and laughter broke out.

The door burst open and Scott ran in, looking panicked. “What happened?” He questioned frantically.

“I had a baby,” she said.

“Oh, is that all,” he said, before he caught sight of the baby in his father’s arms, and like Stiles, he fainted, too.

“Boys,” she muttered, whilst Malia and Lydia rolled their eyes.

“So, have you thought of a name?” The sheriff asked them, happily taking the little bundle in his arms when Jordan passed him over and Malia and Lydia moved to stand beside him so they could look over his shoulder at the newborn, and they cooed happily, something Hermione thought she’d never see Malia do.

“Actually, we have,” Jordan spoke, taking Hermione’s hand in his own and wrapping an arm around her shoulders to pull her to lean against him.

“And?”

Hermione and Jordan shared a smile and then turned to him. “Noah,” they said in unison.

“What!” He spluttered in surprise.

“That’s his name, Noah,” Jordan spoke. The sheriff stared at them, speechless.

“Noah Parrish, I like it,” Lydia commented, smiling down at the newborn. “Well, Noah Parrish, you are the cutest little man I have ever seen,” Lydia cooed.

“I could eat him,” Malia nodded. The sheriff, Lydia, Hermione and Jordan all snapped their eyes to her. “Not literally,” she said. “Isn’t that what people say when a baby’s cute?”

They shook their heads at her before Lydia was given the chance to hold Noah, then Malia who was a little hesitant, and the sheriff took him once more so he could take him over to the deputies before he was passed back to Hermione, just as the ambulance arrived and the paramedics rushed in.

“You’re too late,” the sheriff said unhappily.

Not long later, Hermione, Jordan and their baby were in the ambulance and on the way to the hospital.

“So, do you regret meeting me?” Hermione asked her husband, who was cradling their baby boy gently, staring down at him lovingly.

“No, meeting you was the best thing that could’ve happened to me,” he replied, looking up at her with a smile and his eyes flashed the fiery amber that she loved so much.

“Even though I’m a handful?”

“I wouldn’t have you any other way,” he said truthfully.

“And my fire?”

“I’m fire-proof. I’ll be fine, but if Noah has both of our fires, we’re screwed.”

She laughed at him. “He’ll have our fire, but we can handle it.”

“As long as we’re together, we can handle anything.”


End file.
